Brutal Love
by St. Minority
Summary: Vash & Wolfwood have faced many trials in their adventures together but the hardest may be with each other. Will Vash's vicious past come to break them apart? The showdown with Knives is inevitable. When it comes down to it, will Vash be able to take out one of the few people he ever trusted? V/W, V/K, V/L Warnings: rape, incest, m/m, violence/torture, language
1. The Issue of Trust

**Title:** Brutal Love  
**Rating: **R/NC-17  
**Pairings/Characters:** Vash/Wolfwood, Vash/Knives, Meryl, Millie, Legato, etc.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Trigun, its characters, etc. All belong to its respective owners - Nightow, etc.  
**Warnings**: m/m, rape, language, violence, incest  
**Summary:** The showdown with Knives is inevitable. When it comes down to it, will Vash be able to take out one of the few people he ever trusted? And how did Wolfwood slip under his radar?

**A/N: **Not a great summary, I apologize :) Title comes from Green Day's "Brutal Love" off the album "Tre." I think the song fits this fic well. Feedback is awesome, but not necessary; I just hope you enjoy it as much as I love writing it. :D

* * *

Lightening lit up the room, prompting Vash to put his index fingers in his ears to dull the loud boom of thunder that was sure to follow shortly. It did, and he sighed tiredly. By his count, he had been lying in bed for a good two hours with no luck of sleep.

_Maybe Wolfwood is awake too._

His bare feet silently walked him to the next room over from his at the April City Inn. He knocked quietly, not really expecting a response, but was happy when one came.

"Who is it?" he heard through the sound of the muffled pouring rain outside.

"It's me."

A brief moment passed before his comrade opened the door. He gestured for Vash to come in, and the Humanoid Typhoon took the invite graciously.

"Can't sleep either?" Wolfwood asked as they went to sit down at the table. A bottle of Wild Turkey and two glasses were already there as if the priest had expected company.

Vash let out a small laugh, nervously rubbed the back of his head, and took a seat across from the other man. "Yeah, I guess so. I wasn't sure if you'd be awake or not. Sorry to bother you."

Wolfwood poured them both shots and handed one to Vash, who took it absentmindedly. "It's no bother. Better than being alone on a night like this, if you ask me."

"Yeah, it's really storming out there. Haven't seen something like it for awhile."

They each downed two shots before setting the glasses aside. For some reason, Vash could not seem to meet Nicholas' intense gaze. He stared at the floor, and although his outward composure was calm albeit a bit uneasy, he inwardly wondered what the hell he was feeling – why was his heart racing? It wasn't surprising that he had grown to consider Wolfwood a close friend and ally. In numerous circumstances, his life was preserved because of the priest fighting alongside him. It seemed a ridiculous notion to consider those feelings of immense camaraderie as anything but that. Yet for some time now, his heart had been attempting to sway him otherwise. There was something else there, some emotion he had buried a long time ago that was being drudged up to the surface, with Nicholas D. Wolfwood being the cause. Whatever it was, he'd never tell the other man; he didn't much care for feeling embarrassed and ashamed. He himself didn't even know for sure what it was to put a label on it.

So why _did_ this feel different from any other time he had been alone with the preacher? Something was off, yet he couldn't put his finger on it. Danger? No. He trusted this man even though he hardly knew a thing about him. A trap? Not a chance. The tolling weight of loneliness? Maybe. The desire to be in the comfort of someone else's arms during a raging storm? Very possible. A want to deepen and strengthen his friendship with this man? Definitely.

Sighing heavily, he put his elbow on the table and rested his head in his hand.

"What's on your mind, Mr. Vash the Stampede? Do you need a portable confessional?"

Vash smirked and at last locked his gaze with Wolfwood's. "Nah, I'm not one for telling secrets."

"You sure have a lot of them."

"I could say the same for you, Mr. Priest." He spoke the last two words with sarcasm.

Wolfwood chuckled. "What can I say? I had a previous life before becoming a man of the cloth."

"Care to share it with me?"

"I like to keep my secrets too." He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket hanging from the back of his chair for a cigarette, lit it, and took a long drag. "Yours seem to run deep," he said while exhaling upward.

"How could you tell?" Vash asked dully.

"Like I said before: your smile doesn't reach your eyes."

"You just don't know what to do to get me to really smile," he replied with a sheepish grin.

"Enlighten me."

"Maybe another time."

A clap of thunder rattled the window pane as the storm continued to rage outside. Nicholas noticed the other man shiver almost imperceptibly and wrap his arms around himself as if in a protective embrace. The shot glasses were filled once again, though Vash didn't drink his right away.

"I'll tell you one of mine if you tell me one of yours."

Vash looked at him, searching Wolfwood's expression to see if he was joking or serious. The latter seemed to be the case. "Alright." He let out a deep breath as he tried to think of something to share with this man that he had yet to share with anyone else. "I'm….I'm looking for my brother," he finally stated quietly. "He's my twin, actually. We were separated many years ago."

Images of him and Knives flashed in his head. Playing in the green grass without a care in the world. Flames and red shooting stars. Cold, heartless blue eyes staring at him before a clenched fist slammed in to the side of his face. A possessive embrace, fingers trailing down his back. Hands roaming over his bare torso before gripping his hips. Moans, whimpers, whispered words. Tears filling his eyes as he was forced face-down in the sand, crying out as his body was intruded upon by his brother.

Vash jumped and gasped at the feeling of something on his cheek. It was Nicholas' thumb, wiping away the wet tracks left in the wake of a few tears.

"Must be pretty painful to be without him," Nicholas spoke gently. The hurt in his comrade's green eyes contradicted everything he had known. What he had really wanted to ask was what the hell was wrong with him and how could he seem to still have feelings for a brother as destructive and callous as Knives?

"Sorry," Vash apologized, embarrassed. "Didn't mean to drift off like that."

"It's fine. You two must've been close."

"We were….for a time…." There was a brief moment of silence, during which Vash threw back his shot. Finally, he prompted, "And you?"

"I was trained at an early age to be an assassin. It was the only life I knew until I decided no more. I made it my duty to help kids in need. It's why I started the orphanage and took on the duties of the cross. It's also why I see things quite differently from you." The quizzical look on Vash's face made him continue. "You believe in never killing. You strive to never take another life. Maybe you were taught that way. For me, I was taught to kill at any cost. Now, I just do it if a situation calls for it."

"Maybe someday that'll change."

Wolfwood laughed. "Well, if it does, I'll let you know."

Lightening flickered, thunder following several seconds after.

"Guess I should go back to my room, try and get some sleep," Vash mumbled.

"Up to you. You can stay the night if you want."

Wolfwood's eyes conveyed complete sincerity and even what appeared to Vash to be an invitation. Not since his brother had been by his side had he slept near another person. Or with another person.

"Come on, Vash. You know as well as I do how lonely a life like this can be. And for all the womanizing you do, I doubt you've ever taken a lady up on an offer."

"Don't be so sure," Vash retorted, annoyed at how smug the priest was. It surprised him, though, how easily this man always seemed to be able to read him.

Before he knew what was happening, he was being hoisted to his feet and backed up against the nearest wall. There was fear, excitement, and pleading all wrapped together showing in his bright eyes. Wolfwood's gray-blue ones were clouded with lust and a saddening sense of aloneness. When a hand went beneath his shirt, Vash half-heartedly pushed it away.

"Don't," he whispered.

"Vash-"

"You won't want to see."

"See what?"

"Just….stop."

Accepting that the man's skin was off limits – for now – Nicholas moved his hand down and grinned wickedly at feeling what he had hoped for. A low groan escaped Vash's parted mouth as the priest rubbed against his hard member.

"Nicholas….stop," Vash weakly protested.

"How long's it been?"

"That's none of your business."

"That's what I thought. Just give in. Quit denying what's only natural."

"You're drunk."

"Nowhere close."

Vash closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He inhaled sharply from the pleasurable tingles shooting throughout his anatomy, at the sensation of hungry lips kissing his neck.

"Please….stop…."

Again, Wolfwood tried to touch Vash's bare flesh. This time, the Humanoid Typhoon pushed him away and headed for the door.

"We both need some sleep," the blonde offered lamely.

He didn't make it far before he was being spun around and warm lips were pressed against his. For several seconds, he was frozen, stiff against the preacher's close body and eyes wide as he was kissed. He hadn't had contact like this since Knives. Hadn't felt one hand on his back, bringing him as near as possible to another person, and the other on his round backside since Knives.

Vash snapped out of his memories, shut his eyes, and surrendered. Their mouths worked feverishly with one another's as they lost themselves to kissing each other. He had underestimated just how much he longed to be touched again. And Wolfwood's touch was exhilarating.

The top button of his shirt was undone, and he pulled away to keep Nicholas from doing any more. The priest gazed at him impatiently, but there was real confusion and concern as well.

"How bad could it be?" he asked.

"Bad. It's….not something I like other people to see."

"That why you don't take women home?"

Vash's green eyes flickered with hurt, making Nicholas regret the jab at the other male's pride. With great hesitation, the blonde began to unbutton his shirt. He slipped it off, letting it fall to the floor, and swallowed the nervous knot in his throat. He observed Nicholas' reaction, watched the priest survey his tremendously marred flesh. It was difficult to judge just how Nicholas was taking the sight; for the most part, he seemed rather unphased, more surprised than anything.

At last, Wolfwood purred, "I don't mind," and guided the blonde to lie down on the bed. Everything was happening so fast, yet it felt as if time had slowed whenever they touched. While their lips ravished one another's, Vash shakily undid the buttons on Nicholas' shirt and removed it. He let out a whimper as the preacher moved to suck on his neck and felt the tie being undone on his pants. Was this really happening? Was he really going to _let _it happen? Surely if Knives were here, he'd be appalled. He'd snarl in disgust at his brother fornicating with a human. To him, humans didn't even deserve to touch them.

In this moment, Vash had never known such ecstasy.

He raised his hips for Wolfwood to remove his last article of clothing. Slight worry overtook him as the dark-haired man ceased all of his actions and merely devoured the naked sight below him with his eyes. It would've been a lie to say Wolfwood was not completely attracted to Vash the Stampede. Even though scars adorned the gunman's legs as well – and he would later discover the man's back too, making his skin almost like a patch-work quilt – Wolfwood found him unbelievably appetizing. He wanted to know every inch. He had a fierce urge to claim this man tonight.

"Stay here," he said, getting up to go rummage around in his dufflebag.

"Everything okay? Is something wrong?"

"No, not at all. Just need something….ah! Here it is." He returned to the bed, setting a little bottle of lubricant on the nightstand nearby. "Never know when I'll need it for a beautiful lady, or in tonight's case, a beautiful man." He grinned at seeing the Humanoid Typhoon blush and smile innocently.

"Hope I don't disappoint."

"You never do."

Wolfwood forged a trail of kisses from Vash's forehead down to his nipple. The blonde gasped and squirmed as Nicholas circled his tongue around it. He closed his eyes, reveling in the intense pleasure coursing through him. Teeth gently bit and lips sucked on it while a hand slid down his stomach to tease his erect cock.

"Nicholas," he breathed, "I-"

He was hushed by his comrade's mouth on his. Tentative arms wrapped themselves around the person above him. His heart was racing; he wondered if Nicholas could hear it, the way it thudded so violently in his chest. Was Nicholas this nervous? It didn't seem to be the case. The preacher acted as if this was nothing new, and it was that notion that made Vash suddenly envy him. The only being he had shared such intimacy with was his own dominating brother; even then, the majority of the time it had been against his will.

After a number of minutes, Wolfwood pulled back. Vash watched through half-opened eyes as the other male stripped himself and wet his erection with the lube. The blonde was trembling, causing Wolfwood to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder and whisper, "Relax."

Vash nodded. "Right. Relax."

He parted his legs, allowing the priest to settle between them, and let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

"Have you done this before?" Nicholas asked.

"What? Me? Well…." He noticed Nicholas' raised eyebrow and an expression that told him his friend read him like a book. "Yes. It's been awhile though."

"I'll try to take it slow."

Vash brought his knees as close to his chest as he could and never let his gaze stray from Woolfwood. The last time he had been in this position, silent tears had dripped from his bruised and swollen eyes while he tried to look at anything other than the possessive, pitiless expression on his brother's face.

"_You make me do this," Knives spat as he roughly thrust in and out of his twin. Vash let out a feeble groan as he was forcefully struck by Knives' fist. "Look at me! It's your fault!"_

_Once the assault was over, Vash laid where he was, staring emptily at the blue sky above him. He didn't bother putting on his clothes; the wind felt good against his sweat-sheen skin. Knives stood nearby with his back to him._

"_When will you learn? It's not like I _enjoy_ hurting you, brother. I'd say you're no better than them, but you _are,_" Knives stated coldly. "Why don't you see it? We can wipe them out, rule this planet."_

_He turned around to find Vash had not moved. He sighed, went to kneel beside the prone form, and brushed his fingers through his twin's spiked hair before trailing them down to caress Vash's cheek. _

"_I'm sorry," Knives said with great affection. "Forgive me. I love you. You know that."_

_Vash sat up and took the offered embrace. They held each other securely._

"_We're all we need," Knives whispered in his ear. "You and me. Forever."_

Vash shut his eyes tightly, tensed, and emitted a noise of pain as he felt Wolfwood enter his body. Wolfwood only went until the head of his cock was inside the other man. He'd wait as long as it took for Vash to loosen up before going any farther and would take it as slow as need be.

It was a few minutes when Vash finally breathed, "Okay."

What seemed like an hour to Wolfwood went by before he was completely inside Vash the Stampede. He rocked forward slightly, eliciting a tremulous moan from the blonde. With vocals like that, Nicholas knew it wouldn't take long for him to orgasm. The sound of Vash's whimpers and murmurs of pleasure drove Nicholas wild with lust.

Vash wrapped his arms around Nicholas' neck, grabbing a handful of the preacher's hair as his body moved with every thrust Nicholas made. It was nothing like he had ever experienced. Even the most tenderest of moments with Knives didn't seem to compare with what it felt like to be claimed by Nicholas. There was pain, but ecstasy made him quiver from the strokes the priest's fingers performed on his cock.

Lightening lit up the room and the two horizontal forms moving in unison on the bed. Their breathing became ragged and heavy, their skin hot against one another. Nicholas' propulsions grew more powerful as he neared his peak. He pounded in to Vash's body vigorously and began to moan with the gunman. He had expected it to be good; he hadn't prepared for it being incredible.

Warm fluid splashed on to Nicholas' hand as Vash climaxed. Nicholas followed soon after, stopping abruptly and spilling himself deep inside the other man. Vash whimpered as he felt Wolfwood's member twitch within him, held on tightly to the priest, and wrapped his legs around him. For the first time in a long time, he felt safe; he didn't want to let go.

Thunder clapped outside, and the two men simply stared at one another for a small while. They were panting, bodies spent and tired, but utterly sated. Vash swallowed hard before he pulled Wolfwood's face down and kissed him tenderly. Wolfwood caressed the outlaw's cheek and at last drew back. He untangled himself from Vash's hold and laid down beside him.

A lengthy moment passed as they rested in silence, listening to each other's breathing and the rain continuing to pour. Once their hearts had slowed, Wolfwood shifted to grab something from under the bed. Vash gazed at the ceiling, still recovering slightly from the exertion. His eyes widened slightly at the undeniable feel of a cold gun barrel against his temple.

"Don't move," Wolfwood ordered quietly.

"Wh-….What are you doing?"

"I've been hired to kill you….by your brother."

Vash let out an audible noise of surprise. "Knives….How….Why?" he asked with evident hurt present in his voice.

"His orders. He wants you terminated."

"I….I trusted you…."

Wolfwood closed his eyes briefly, hating how horrible he felt and how much pain he was obviously causing the man who he considered a friend.

Before he had time to react, Vash was sitting up and glaring at him angrily. His trembling voice gave away the betrayal and sadness hiding behind the intense green eyes.

"You planned this," he spoke softly. He didn't appear to care that Nicholas was up now too and had cocked the gun, still pointing at his head.

"It was a way I knew you wouldn't have your weapon anywhere near you, a way I'd know you'd be defenseless."

"So you go ahead and use me before you kill me?"

"I didn't plan for it to go as far as it did."

"Of course you didn't," Vash replied icily.

Not showing any concern to the possibility of Nicholas ending his life, Vash got up from the bed and put on his clothes.

"If you're going to do it, then do it," he said curtly, his back to Nicholas the whole time.

"Vash-"

"Just do it!"

Nicholas' aim followed the blonde as Vash hurried to the door. The entrance was slammed shut behind him, and with a heavy sigh, Nicholas lowered the gun.

"Damn it," he muttered.

Furious and heart-wrenching tears poured down Vash's flushed cheeks as he returned to his room. Through his blurred vision, he found and packed his belongings. He changed out of his clothes in to his regular gear and coat.

The night was cold, making his breath show whenever he exhaled. The rain fell from the sky with the intensity of a shower on full blast.

Like a ghost, he disappeared in to the pitch black, headed for the empty desert.

* * *

At the sight of the first sun's rays, Wolfwood dragged himself to the room next to his. He had been awake all night, regretting ever trying to do what he was contracted for. Whether he liked to admit it or not, he had grown to have some strong feelings for Vash the Stampede. They defended one another. Worked like a well-oiled machine when in combat, as if they had been doing it for years. The two of them had spent numerous days and nights with no one but themselves to keep the other company, to keep each other alive. They had their arguments, but many laughs as well, just like old friends.

When it came down to it, Vash was his only friend, the only person he trusted without question. And he broke whatever trust Vash had placed in him the moment he aimed the gun at him.

Wolfwood sighed, raised his hand to the door, and knocked lightly.

"Vash, it's me. We need to talk." He cringed inwardly at how cliché he sounded.

No reply.

"Come on, Spikey. Open up."

Silence.

He tried the doorknob to see if it was unlocked and was taken aback when he found it to be the case.

"I'm coming in," he announced before entering the room.

There was no one there. No duffle bag. No red coat hanging nearby. Nothing.

_Don't tell me you left during that storm last night, _he thought to himself. _You have a death wish? _

"Shit," he muttered under his breath.

There were three towns near the one he was at now, but they were each at least seventy miles away. Not only did he not know which the Humanoid Typhoon picked to travel to, he had a sickening feeling at the image of the blonde lying in the sand having collapsed from exhaustion and dehydration while the buzzards encircled him, waiting for the rest of his life to drain out.

How was he supposed to find that idiot in the middle of the open desert?

"I'm sorry, Vash," he whispered remorsefully.

* * *

In the protective shade of a small cave, puffy green eyes stared vacantly out at the blowing sand. His body had ceased its violent shivering, and the pained tears that had flowed down his face were done too. The shelter wasn't very big; it allowed him to extend his bent legs only so far, though for the most part, he had been curled up in to a ball to keep warm. And to comfort himself.

By his estimate, he had traveled three miles during the night before his body didn't seem to want to move anymore. He was beyond tired, though sleep had refused to overtake him.

He was quite familiar with betrayal. And people pointed their weapons at him on a regular basis. But Wolfwood….That was the one person he _didn't _expect either of those to come from. Wolfwood was the only person he had let get so close to him since….

"_We're all we need. You and me. Forever."_

Vash closed his eyes tightly as he began to cry quietly. Knives had been the most important person in his life; in a way, he had felt Wolfwood had filled that position as of late. Now, both worked against him and wanted him dead.

He exhaled a shaky breath before he crawled out from the shelter. The suns were high and hot. Nothing but sand stretched in all directions around him.

Heaving his duffle bag on to his shoulder, he set off towards the west, not knowing how far until the next town; at the moment, he simply didn't care.

* * *

Despite it being a pointless endeavor in his mind, Wolfwood rode around in the open desert for several hours before calling it quits. If only he knew which direction Vash was headed, it'd be more possible for him to catch up to the Humanoid Typhoon. The next day he searched north for the most part, only venturing slightly to the west.

_Something in my gut tells me Johnson City._

He downed the rest of his beer, settling on leaving in the morning.

* * *

A fire burned steadily, wood crackling and hissing, keeping the lone person almost comfortably warm in the middle of nowhere. Vash never understood how it could be so sweltering hot during the day and then so bone-chilling cold at night.

He sat with his legs held to his chest, the flames dancing in the frames of his yellow glasses.

"_Don't move," Wolfwood ordered quietly. _

"_Wh-….What are you doing?"_

"_I've been hired to kill you….by your brother."_

In that moment, everything he had known seemed to dissipate. He truly was wholly alone in this world. Perhaps he _had _become too trusting of people. Just another reason for Knives to scorn him and the human race itself. His brother had warned him. The idealism and optimism Knives had so despised remained, however, and now he wondered if maybe his twin had been right to distrust everyone but the two of them.

He trembled a little at remembering the feel of Nicholas' hands on him. The way the priest kissed him, moved inside of him. In that shared intimacy, he forgot everything: the inevitable war with Knives, the emotional burdens he carried, the memories and pain from which his scars had come from. Nothing had mattered the instant he stripped his clothes and gave himself up to the other man. He had always felt safe – well, as safe as one could feel with a merciless mass-murderer after him – when Nicholas was with him. Lying on his back, hugging his friend to his naked body, he had felt….free. Salvation. Love.

Dim embers flew as he tossed a short log on to the burning pile.

"Nicholas," he mumbled softly.

* * *

Five days had passed since Vash had departed without him. Nicholas scanned the area around him as he rode his bike through the barren wilderness towards Johnson City. He hoped to see any sign of the gunman, to see the man's long red coat fluttering in the wind.

Nothing.

It was late afternoon by his estimate. He leaned back against his motorcycle, having stopped for a break to stretch and to smoke.

"Idiot," he muttered, frustrated. He didn't like being worried over someone he really knew nothing about, though still cared so much for.

He stomped on what was left of his cigarette when he was finished and began to ride again. Was there a point in continuing to search? What were the odds he would even come across him?

Flying through the desert at fifty iles an hour, something suddenly caught his eye thirty iles from where he had just stopped. Off toward the left in the distance. Red flapped in the breeze. Vultures were circling in the sky.

"It can't be."

Hurriedly, he steered towards the flowing fabric. Sprawled out face-down was Vash the Stampede.

"Vash!"

Wolfwood knelt beside him, rolled him over, and brushed the sand off the blonde's face. Vash was unconscious, though still alive, prompting the preacher to shake him and call his name.

"Come on, Spikey."

At last, Vash's eyes opened halfway. Everything was blurred together, yet he could make out a dark-haired figure hovering above him. There was a voice as well; it echoed in his ears as if the person was far away. Cool liquid splashed on to his forehead. Suddenly he felt something pressed against his lips. He opened his mouth and made a sound of delight the instant water flooded inside. He lifted a quivering hand to hold the bottle to him as he drank greedily.

"Okay, that's good. Don't want to have too much at once," Nicholas stated after a handful of seconds and pulled the canteen away. Vash audibly protested feebly and reached for it again, but Nicholas tossed it towards his bike.

"Alright, Spikey, let's get you out of here."

He stood up, swooped Vash in to his arms, and carried him to the motorcycle. He set him down gently in the side car, loaded the blonde's duffle bag behind his cross, and started the engine.

The words all seemed to meld together, but Vash could at least discern his name from the person who had discovered him. At the time being, he had no energy to put up any sort of fight. Did he really need to? Whoever it was seemed to want to help him. He had no choice but to place his trust in this man.

Hearing his name one more time, Vash's head fell back as he succumbed to unconsciousness once again.


	2. Regrets

"Innkeep! You have a room free?"

The clerk behind the counter looked from Wolfwood's frantic face to the unresponsive blonde man slung over the priest's shoulder. He lifted a disapproving eyebrow, prompting Wolfwood to growl in frustration and yell, "It's not like that! Do you have a room or not?"

The innkeeper fetched a pair of keys from the wall behind him and tossed them at the preacher. "Number twelve."

"Thanks. I'll be back to pay."

Nicholas hauled what people seemed to think was his drunken whore, judging by the expressions on their faces as he passed, up the stairs and to the room. Quickly, he took Vash to the bathroom, set him down on the floor, and turned on the shower.

"Let's get you out of this, Spikey," he muttered while undoing the buttons on the Humanoid Typhoon's crimson coat.

Vash remained wholly unresponsive as Nicholas removed the article of clothing. What the coat had hid under it made Wolfwood look at the man's body dumbfounded.

"Are you serious?"

He sighed, taking in all the buckles and straps that adorned the leather armor suit. Deciding it wasn't worth the time, he lifted Vash in to the tub and laid him in it.

"Hopefully that'll cool you off and wake you up."

* * *

The sound of water falling reached him first, followed by the cold sensation of it hitting his skin. When had it started to rain? The last thing he really remembered was the hot suns beating on his neck.

Happily, he let the droplets fall in to his parched mouth. He drank for a minute or so before his eyes finally opened. Instantly, he was confused.

"Huh? Where am I?"

With a groan, he got himself to his feet and turned the water off. From the other room, he heard clinking of dishes. The realization he was not alone made him instinctively reach for his gun, and slight panic shot through him at the absence of it from his hip.

"Shit," he whispered.

He took a deep breath, stepped out of the tub, and silently stalked toward the doorway. His back was pressed against the wall, his ears straining to hear anything else and receiving nothing. Cautiously, he peered around the corner, spotted his company, and immediately flattened himself against the wall again. His brow furrowed in anger, eyes alight with surprise and vexation.

_What the hell is _he _doing here?! How did he find me?!_

"You might as well join me; I know you're there," he heard the priest announce.

Vash gritted his teeth and entered the room. He sat down stiffly at the table across from Nicholas, never letting his gaze stray from the gray-blue ones watching him in turn. A pitcher of water, a couple bottles of alcohol, two glasses, two bowls, a platter of salmon sandwiches, and a pot of Tomas soup adorned the table top.

"Figured you'd be hungry," Nicholas stated casually.

The way he spoke, so calmly and easily, it was as if he had never put a gun to his friend's head; it made Vash's skin crawl. Wolfwood had some damn nerve.

Sighing as if exasperated, the preacher shrugged and took a quarter of a full sandwich. "Suit yourself."

"Why are you here?" Vash questioned, his voice dripping with a tinge of venom.

"Shouldn't you be saying, 'Thank you for saving my life?' That would be more appropriate."

"Don't patronize me, Wolfwood. There wouldn't have been a life to save if you had pulled the damn trigger like you were hired to do."

There was no answer. Nicholas merely continued eating.

"What stopped you?"

"Call it 'Divine Intervention' if you want to give it a name."

"You couldn't do it. Why?"

Nicholas exhaled another breath, annoyed. "Would you shut up and eat? You're dehydrated and starved."

Vash glared at him for a brief moment before he gave in and poured himself a bowl of soup. They ate in silence, the blonde continuing to regard Wolfwood closely. He sensed his firearm was on the desk in the corner; it'd be so easy with his abilities to retrieve it and lodge a bullet in the preacher's shoulder with Wolfwood having no damn clue what hit him. Vash didn't believe in killing, but he certainly felt justified to put this traitor in a sling for a bit. In the pit of his heart, however, he knew he couldn't bring himself to purposely hurt Wolfwood; he still had deep-rooted feelings for the other man.

When they finished, they stared at one another for a long period. Nicholas' expression remained stoic, though his stomach churned with guilt from the presence of hurt and dull rage burning in the piercing jade eyes. There was no getting out of this one. Without words, Vash was demanding answers, and he knew he was going to have to eventually give them.

"Well?" he ultimately offered lamely.

"How could you?" The tone in the blonde's voice had morphed in to one that revealed immense bewilderment and heartache.

"I'm a mercenary for hire, I suppose. If the price is right."

"And his was?"

Nicholas removed a cigarette from his breast pocket and lit it. "I had to do what I thought was best. And what was best was protecting those kids. What would you have done?"

For the first time since sitting down, Vash glanced away and said nothing.

"I'm not going to apologize to you, Vash. We both know it won't do anything. I'm not going to pretend I shouldn't have done it either. I do regret it, though."

"How can I trust anything you say?"

The priest took a long drag from the cigarette. He exhaled fully before responding with curt honesty, "You can't. I understand that. I'm not going to beg for forgiveness. I know it takes more than that to earn back someone's trust."

"Wolfwood…." His eyes once again met the preacher's. "Why didn't you pull the trigger?"

"Change of heart, I guess. Whether I like to admit it, you've grown on me." Nicholas felt a weight leave him when he saw the blonde's lips quirk upward in a gentle smile. "Call it a hunch, but…." He took one last hit from his cigarette before extinguishing it in the ashtray. "Something tells me you're this planet's only hope, Vash the Stampede."

Vash gave a skeptical laugh. "Your God tell you that?"

"Well, I _am_ one of his humble servants."

The air was heavy with grave seriousness before Vash broke the pause after several minutes.

"I don't know if I can do it, Nicholas," he admitted softly, almost shamefully. He closed his eyes, holding the tears that threatened to fall as he thought of Rem's last words.

"_Take care of Knives!"_

"He's become stronger than me. I can feel it; I can feel his power."

"Don't sell yourself too short, needle-noggin."

"You don't understand."

"I understand that you're scared. It's perfectly natural. What it comes down to is are you going to accept that and fight like hell regardless?"

"I….I can't let her down. I can't let him destroy everything she represented….everything she taught us…."

"Then I think your decision is made."

Wolfwood filled their empty water glasses a quarter of the way full with whiskey. He held his up towards Vash, who took the offer and touched his cup against it.

_I'll take care of him, Rem, _he thought determinedly. _I promised. I'll do whatever it takes. _

* * *

"Where you sleeping?"

"The bed."

"That's funny, cause I'm pretty sure that's where _I'm_ sleeping."

"Not only did I pay for the room, I _saved your life_. I think I'll be taking it."

The two men stared at each other stubbornly before they both suddenly bolted for the bed. Wolfwood lunged, tackled the blonde to the ground, and then rapidly continued towards the piece of furniture in question.

"Damn it, Spikey! Just accept it and sleep on the damn floor!"

Vash grabbed the priest's ankle, stopping Wolfwood abruptly. "I don't think so!"

They proceeded to wrestle and fend one another off as they made their way to the opposite side of the room where the bed was.

"It's mine!" Vash exclaimed finally, reaching a hand out to grasp the blanket on top.

Despite Wolfwood trying to pull him back to the ground, he wiggled out of the preacher's grasp and climbed atop the mattress. With a smug grin, he closed his eyes, put his hands behind his head, and stretched out.

"Ah, so comfy. You'll really be missing out, Wolfy."

"Oh shut it, you bastard."

"Hey! Come on!" He opened one eye to take in the annoyed expression on the other man's visage. "I'm the one who's sick! I almost died, remember?!"

"Yeah, I should've just left you there."

"Now that's not very church-man like."

Nicholas was grateful to find a few extra blankets and a pillow in the wardrobe, which he used to make as good a bed as any on the floor. While he was busy with that, Vash removed his leather outfit and changed in to a pair of loose pants and a shirt. He hadn't noticed the dark haired man stealing glances at his unclothed body.

Once Nicholas was done, he turned off the light and changed in to a new set of clothes as well.

"Sure hope you enjoy that," he said grumpily, covering himself with a sheet.

"Mmm….I will. Good night, Wolfy."

"I hate when you call me that." In all honesty, he secretly loved that Vash had given him a nickname….a pet name, almost.

"You call me 'Spikey' and 'needle-noggin.' I think it's only fair you get something too."

"You _are _a needle-noggin. Now go to sleep. You need it."

Not until Vash was peacefully asleep did Wolfwood close his eyes and join him in slumber.

* * *

"AHHH! No more! Somebody help! HELP!"

Nicholas bolted upright from his place on the floor, stumbled to his feet to fetch one of his handguns, and rushed to the window next to the bed. The sound of his friend's cries for aid sent his heart pounding in to a frenzy.

_What could that walking disaster have gotten himself in to already?!_

He threw open the window, wildly pointing his gun from one direction to the other as he tried to spot where the commotion was coming from.

In the middle of the town square, there was Vash: neighborhood kids piled atop him as they enthusiastically roughhoused with the sixty-billion-double-dollar man.

"Jeeze, Spikey. Thanks for waking me so rudely," Nicholas grumbled. He smiled, however. The famous outlaw had few things in this world to make him happy, and Nicholas thought it odd but cute how spending time and having fun with the local kids gave Vash such joy. Even if it was at the expense of the blonde's muscles and pride.

"Hey Wolfwood!"

Nicholas shook his head slightly to break from his thoughts.

"You wanna join us?!" Vash called to him. "Hey! Watch it down there!" he lightly scolded a couple of the gang due to one of them kicking just a little too close to a very sensitive body part.

"Nah, that's alright. It looks like you've got this under control."

"But….AHHHH! Wolfwood!"

The priest chuckled as the children continued their fighting and conquering of the infamous Vash the Stampede. Once they had decided they had caused sufficient amount of damage and their prisoner gladly waved the white flag, the kids cheered in victory. Vash laughed cheerfully and got to his feet. He gave each of them a few coins to get themselves ice-cream as a reward, and as Wolfwood stared at the gunman – witnessing such a pure and jovial smile – he felt a tinge of sympathy and sadness for him. This man would never have children of his own to spend time with, would never be a father. Wolfwood wondered if Vash would even have – or ever had – a person to share his life with. It was a rough life and one that would either end abruptly at the hands of his twin brother or proceed to be a long one as it had already been. He had an enormous amount of love to give, Wolfwood knew, but was there anyone who wanted it and was willing to reciprocate?

"Oh hey! It's the insurance girls!" Vash exclaimed gleefully.

"Hi Mr. Vash!" Millie greeted warmly as her and her co-worker rushed towards the outlaw.

"Is everything alright?!" Meryl asked frenziedly. "We heard you yelling from three blocks over and came as quickly as we could. What happened?"

"Nothing serious," Vash chuckled. "Just having some fun. What are you two doing here?"

"We heard rumors you might be in this city, so of course we had to come see for ourselves; it _is _our job."

"Aw jeeze, and here I thought this was a fortuitous reunion."

"That's dependable Meryl for you!" Millie interjected. "Always doing her job!"

Meryl folded her arms over her chest and shook her head. "As long as you're still wandering this planet, Vash the Stampede, there's always going to be _some _sort of damage wherever you turn up at. I'm just glad to see we're not too late and prevent you from causing any trouble."

"Me?! I don't know what you're talking about!" Vash protested with feigned offense. "I was kinda hoping you two were done following me around. I think you're the ones trouble follows."

"Are you serious?!" Meryl shouted furiously. "There's a reason there's sixty-billion-double-dollars on your head and why you're known as the Humanoid Typhoon!"

Millie gave a small laugh, embarrassed. "Don't mind her, Mr. Vash. She's just always so stressed."

"I can tell. Sheesh. Come on! Let me buy you both some lunch!"

"Really?! You mean it?!" Millie asked delightedly, clapping her hands together.

"Sure! Hey Wolfy! You want to come down for lunch with us?"

Nicholas rolled his eyes at the use of his new nickname. "Alright. Give a minute."

As he got dressed, the preacher smirked. "That's typical Vash the Stampede for you. Always so damn chipper with everybody."

* * *

Vash had a fit of the giggles, like a little schoolgirl, and Wolfwood was thankful the man was a fun and polite drunk rather than an angry one. The two of them had an arm slung across the other's shoulders as they stumbled and shuffled back to the inn. They had gone out for drinks with the insurance girls earlier in the night; it was now two in the morning.

"Would you quiet down?" Nicholas said slightly annoyed, though actually found Vash's childish drunk side amusing.

After having to stop a couple of times on the stairs in order to catch their footing, they made it in to their room and sat down on the bed.

"I'm beginning to think you can't hold your liquor well, Spikey."

"What are you talking about?!" the blonde's words were slurred together. "I'm-I'm just fine. Haven't thrown up once. Pretty good if you ask me."

"Surprising, if you ask me." Wolfwood was about to move to the floor when a hand grasped his arm and stopped him.

"Why don't you sleep here with me? It'll be more comfortable."

Wolfwood blinked blankly; Vash smiled sweetly.

"Come on," Vash coaxed, lying down on his back and patted the space next to him.

Deciding it was not worth a protest, the priest stretched out beside him. The twin sized mattress barely accommodated the two bodies, prompting Wolfwood to observe, "Don't think this'll be much better than the floor, Spikey. I'm on the edge."

Not receiving a response, he looked over to find Vash soundly asleep. Nicholas sighed and shook his head.

"That didn't take long."

Lying on his side, the preacher silently observed the other man, studying every detail of the blonde's countenance. Only once had he seen Vash lose control and set free his remarkable power, had seen the giant wings protrude from the gunman's body; it had been then that he wondered if Vash the Stampede was a demon among the mortal world. Right now, however, as he gazed at the serene features of the other man, he reconsidered. This wasn't a beast from Hell; it was an angel. This bumbling, overly kind and trusting fool was an angel and the key to save them all.

Absentmindedly, he brushed his fingertips along Vash's cheek. Despite all the time he spent in the sun, the man's skin was exceptionally smooth and soft. Slowly, he glided his fingers downward and traced the silky lips of the prone figure. An involuntary moan came from Nicholas the instant he felt Vash's tongue flick against his creeping digits. He desperately wanted more. Boldly, he inserted his index finger into the man's mouth. He mildly probed the oral cavity, teased Vash's tongue, and grew immensely hard when the outlaw weakly sucked on the intruder. The sight and sensation drove Nicholas mad with desire. But there was no way he could do what he was now suddenly dying to do. After all, he _was _a priest.

Vash eventually stopped, mumbled something, and shifted to lie with his back to Wolfwood. The dark-haired man pressed himself against the outlaw's body, closed his eyes, and breathed in the blonde's scent. Musky and sweet all at once. He hesitated a brief moment before placing a kiss on the nape of the gunman's neck. His arm enveloped Vash as he continued kissing and gently suckling the pale skin. A shudder went through Vash's anatomy; Nicholas responded by tightening his embrace and pushing his erection against the blonde's round backside. It wasn't as if he was taking advantage; they were both fully clothed, after all. And in his sleep, Vash didn't seem to mind. In fact, he expelled a quiet noise of what Nicholas took as enjoyment, encouraging the preacher to reach under the red coat and inch his hand downward between the man's legs. Even though the leather suit Vash wore was skin-tight, Nicholas could feel the gunman's erection pushing against the restraining fabric.

"God forgive me," he whispered.

He licked Vash's earlobe as he started to knead his comrade's cock. A tense expression replaced the calm one Vash had had; his legs rubbed together and his breathing became heavier.

"Nnnnhhh…." he moaned softly.

Nicholas didn't know when he had begun bucking his hips against Vash; his fondling of the other man's hard member grew more intense as he became more aggressive with his thrusts. Sweat glistened on the outlaw's face, and Wolfwood felt kinky enough to lick the sheen of it forming on Vash's neck.

"Uuhhnnn….nnhhhnnn…."

The uncontrolled sounds coming from Vash's now parted lips made Wolfwood firmly grip the man's hip and roughly thrust against him as if he were actually pounding in to Vash's body.

It wasn't long before he climaxed, clutching Vash securely to him.

A lengthy period went by before Wolfwood rolled on to his back and stared at the ceiling through half-opened eyes. His comrade's breathing eventually returned to being deep and slow.

_What in the hell did I just do? _Nicholas thought guiltily. The probability was high that Vash would have no idea what had transpired when he woke in the morning, but it didn't ease the shame the priest now felt.

Vash uttered something in his dreamy state, though Nicholas couldn't discern it. A minute or so later, the blonde muttered again and this time, the preacher believed he caught what it was.

Knives.

The name prodded Wolfwood to sit up a little in order to see the other man's face. He was taken aback when Vash began to tremble and tears leaked from his now tightly closed eyes.

"Vash," he spoke soothingly, knowing the gunman probably wouldn't hear him in his sleep, though still thought it worth a try. "It's alright." He placed a hand on his comrade's shuddering shoulder. "It's alright."

When Nicholas finally fell asleep, Vash at last went still, cocooned affectionately in the priest's arms.


	3. Brought to Light

**A/N: **Just want to give a big shout out to my incredible beta, Shin ATproof. Thanks for the second pair of eyes and letting me bounce ideas off ya, bud! :D

Also want to give a huge thanks to my first two reviewers **BurningWhiteTwilight **and **Lady Geuna**! Much appreciation. It's nice to get some feedback, nice to know someone's enjoying reading it XD

* * *

The sun warmed Nicholas' face, and he kept his eyes closed to keep the light out just a bit longer. He felt beside him, finding his bedmate was not there. He heard Vash's labored breaths before he rolled over to look at him. Dressed in a pair of gray pants and a baggy white tank-top halfway tucked in, the gunman was balanced on one hand (his bionic arm was currently laying on the table), perfectly perpendicular to the floor and with his back to Nicholas. Steadily, he did several pushups, making the priest marvel at just how strong the man was. He knew Vash had excellent physical stamina and could lift or carry a decent amount of weight, but witnessing the blonde's muscles at work in this moment, and with a single arm no less, Nicholas admitted even he had underestimated the Humanoid Typhoon's capabilities.

After doing a set of ten, Vash fell backward and landed on his feet as easily as a cat would. Upon seeing the priest regarding him with interest, he laughed a little and smiled coyly.

"Oh, I didn't know I was being watched," he said, sounding somewhat self-conscious.

"Don't worry about it; I just woke up. How long have you been at it?"

"An hour?" He fetched a glass of water, sat down at the table, and drank rapidly. "How'd you sleep?" he asked once he finished.

"Not bad. I don't think we'll be doing that again anytime soon, though. Bed's not made for two."

"Heheh, I didn't really notice. Except my side kind of hurts. I got a bruise on my hip; did you hit me or something while you were dreaming?" His tone made it clear it was a joke, and Wolfwood wasn't about to correct him on just how close to the mark he was.

"I don't think so. You just must've slept on it wrong."

"Yeah, I guess."

The absence of Vash's metal arm was increasingly perking Wolfwood's curiosity. He had never seen the man without it before, and he had never really thought about bringing up the subject on how the gunman lost the real one until now. Had it been severed before all of the other scars and bolts were hammered in to his body? Who took it? Bounty hunters that got way out of control? He didn't even realize the words "What happened to your arm?" were out of his mouth until he saw the expression of minor surprise on Vash's countenance.

Vash instinctively moved his hand to rub what was left of his lost appendage and answered, "Knives. He cut it off a long time ago….Been serving as a constant reminder ever since."

"Reminder of what?"

"The different paths we chose."

"Tell me you took something of his." Wolfwood knew the answer was "no" because Vash just wasn't that way; he was an utter pacifist, and this was one of those instances where Wolfwood hated him for it. If a butchered limb wasn't enough to make Vash angry enough to break his own rule just once in order to make Knives pay for the damage, what _was _something that would push him over the edge?

"No. I kinda deserved it, honestly."

"The hell you mean you deserved it?!"

"I accidentally shot him in the shoulder."

"So he took your arm?!"

"Yeah, so we're kind of even, right?"

The earnest way Vash spoke those words made Wolfwood stare at him in disbelief. Vash had truly cared for his brother in spite of his twin hacking off his arm; he _still _immensely cared. If Wolfwood was honest with himself, he would've admitted that he was jealous of Knives; instead, he continued being cross. "You think that's even?!"

Vash sighed, defeated. "It was a long time ago. It doesn't matter now."

"Doesn't matter?! Spikey-"

Vash stood abruptly and headed toward the bathroom. "I'm gonna take a shower." As if flicking on a different personality switch, he added merrily, "So feel free to have breakfast without me!"

The door closed behind him and a number of seconds later, Nicholas heard the water turn on. If he could see the other man's memories, maybe he'd better understand. For the moment, however, the preacher found himself quite irritated with his comrade. A severed body part and the agony it had caused hadn't been enough to move Vash to vengeance. And Vash was the one destined to kill Millions Knives.

When it came to it, Nicholas doubted the outlaw would be able to even aim his gun at his twin, let alone murder him.

* * *

The café was relatively crowded for mid-morning, though Nicholas was able to find a table up front in order to enjoy his coffee, toast, and fried eggs. He had planned on waiting for Vash, but the Humanoid Typhoon apparently liked to take lengthy showers, causing him to give up and have breakfast alone. That was until he suddenly heard a familiar and impossibly chipper voice address him.

"Hey Mr. Priest!"

He glanced up from his food to find Millie approaching him. She had a glass of juice and a plate piled with four pancakes drenched in syrup. "Well hello," he replied warmly. "Care to join me?"

"Thank you so much! It's quite a coincidence that you're here too. Where's Mr. Vash?"

"Oh he's doing his own thing at the moment. What about your friend, Meryl?"

"She's sleeping off last night's drinks," she explained with a laugh.

Wolfwood chuckled. "Bad hangover, huh?"

"Yeah, she's not much of a drinker. You seem to be functioning just fine for the amount you drank!"

"My body's used to it. Me and alcohol, we're old buddies. So what's on the agenda for you two insurance ladies today?"

Millie took a large bite of her pancakes and had no qualms about talking with her mouth full. "I'm not sure. Probably nothing much since Mr. Vash isn't on the move yet. You?"

"Eh, I'm not sure either."

"Well you two are welcome to join us in whatever we decide!"

"Thanks, but do you think Meryl would appreciate that?"

"Oh, she'll be fine! Despite her sometimes hot temper, I think she really likes spending time with you and him whenever you're around!"

From what Nicholas could gather about Meryl, this didn't seem to be the case; she always seemed on pins and needles whenever Vash was nearby. It was a miracle, in his mind, that she hadn't had a heart attack yet from the amount of stress following the sixty-billion-double-dollar man around apparently brought with it.

"Well, we know where you're both staying so we'll come by if we get a chance. How does that sound?"

Millie swallowed what appeared to be half a pancake and answered energetically, "Great!"

* * *

Humming cheerily as he browsed the hodge-podge of items in the small shop, Vash glided from one cluttered table to another. He wasn't particularly searching for anything; all the trinkets had simply caught his eye. Currently, he was the only one in the store; the old woman behind the front counter regarded him with a kind grin.

"You know, you look just like that man on the wanted posters," she remarked. "Vash the Stampede."

Vash glanced up at her and chuckled nervously. "Haha, yeah! I get that a lot."

"You seem too much of a sweetie to be a person like that though, dearie."

"Wow, that's very nice of you to say! Thanks, grandma!"

A glint of silver piqued his interest amongst the bronze and copper antiques. It was a flip lighter; when he turned it over in his hand, a broad smile crept on to his face. Etched in to the metal case was a black cross.

"Hey! How much for this?" he inquired, holding the item up.

The lady adjusted her glasses as she surveyed what it was. "Oh that? I'd say twenty-five double dollars, but for a good boy like you, twenty should be just fine."

"Aw really?! Gee, thanks! I appreciate it!"

He paid her and exited the shop, consistently flipping open the lid and igniting the thin flame like an excited kid with a new toy.

* * *

After aimlessly wandering around the town for a few hours, visiting various shops and people-watching for a bit, Wolfwood returned to the inn. He removed all of his firearms from the Punisher, cleared off the round table in the room, and set out supplies in order to clean his weapons. It had been longer than he would've liked since he had last given them a thorough clean. Traveling around with the sixty-billion-double-dollar man sometimes proved difficult to have a little downtime to one's self. For once, he and the outlaw seemed to have found a relatively quiet town where people so far hadn't recognized Vash as _the _Vash the Stampede and seeing as how the Humanoid Typhoon was off doing his own thing for the time being, Wolfwood would do the same.

With a brand new bottle of Wild Turkey nearby, Wolfwood enjoyed the quiet rest of his afternoon and evening alone.

* * *

The brief _hiss _of a match being lit sounded in the otherwise still environment around him as Wolfwood brought the flame to the cigarette dangling from his mouth. He shook the tiny wood stick to extinguish the flame once the paper commenced burning, inhaled deeply, then leisurely expelled the smoke from between his parted lips. In the moonlight, he sat on the edge of the roof of the inn, silently observing the people below.

"Chapel," he suddenly heard someone discreetly call to him. It came from the dark alleyway to the side of the building. He recognized the voice. Zazie the Beast.

"What do you want?"

"Got a message for you. He says, 'Keep it up.'"

The last time he had heard from this gung-ho gun was during the period of Vash's temporary disappearance, after he had tried and failed to execute his comrade. Zazie had delivered new orders that no longer required Wolfwood to murder Vash; instead, he was to deliver the Master's brother in one piece and unharmed.

"Thanks, now beat it," Wolfwood spoke with unhidden harshness.

A bitter cackle was the response. "I think you've gone soft, Chapel."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I've been watching you ever since the last time I visited you. You've gone soft for Vash the Stampede," he ended condescendingly.

Wolfwood said nothing.

"I see how you are with him. And I saw what you did to him last night."

If it had been daytime, Zazie most likely would've seen the color drain from Wolfwood's face. "Pervert," he shot back defensively.

Another cold laugh. "I think you should be calling yourself that. I didn't dry fuck him while he was passed out."

A severe feeling of resentment was welling within Wolfwood. "Get the hell out of here. Go crawl back to the Master."

"Hit a nerve, did I? How rude of me. Better be careful. _He _may not think it, but I believe you've turned traitor. And I don't think he'd appreciate finding out you played with something of his the way you did."

In that statement, "he" didn't mean Vash. It sent a tiny chill down Wolfwood's spine. "That's why you're not smart enough to be anything other than a messenger."

There was no answer, causing the priest to sigh shakily. He had been placed in charge of being basically Vash's bodyguard; but if someone like Zazie could read him so easily, could see his loyalties changing, he knew it wouldn't be long for Knives to do the same.

And since when did Vash become property of Knives?

"…_I don't think he'd appreciate finding out you played with something of his the way you did." _

Was there something he had missed? Some information he wasn't privy to? The way it sounded, Nicholas grew ill at the thought of Knives "playing" with Vash and all the twisted acts it conjured up. How could the gunman have let that happen? The two were brothers.

Suddenly, he understood. Not only could Vash not take something of Knives' in exchange for his arm, he most likely was never able to say "no" to anything his twin wanted. Even if it was himself.

Nicholas wanted to vomit at the notion. Someone so good-hearted and innocent as Vash being stuck with a brother like Knives. There wasn't a chance he had ever stood up to the callous twin.

A few minutes later, he heard the door to the rooftop open, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Hey! There you are!"

Vash came to sit beside him. The preacher couldn't bring himself to even acknowledge him.

"You're quite a night-owl, aren't you?"

Nicholas remained unresponsive.

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Vash remained quiet for a period before pulling his purchase from earlier out of his pocket.

"Here, I got you something." He tossed the wrapped item to Wolfwood, who stared at it, puzzled.

"What is it?"

"Just something I found today and thought you'd like it."

The priest removed the brown paper from around the gift. His cigarette almost fell from between his lips as his mouth fell open in wonder. He couldn't remember the last time he had ever been given a present; it was a practical one, an extremely meaningful one because of who it came from.

Due to his lack of enthusiasm, Vash began to worry. "Do you not want it?"

Wolfwood swallowed the unfamiliar knot in his throat and clasped his fingers around the lighter. "I….It's great."

"Good! You had me scared for a second. Now you can stop carrying around all those damn matches. I don't know how you don't lose them all."

The priest at last locked eyes with Vash, who blushed a little from the intensity in Wolfwood's gaze. "Thank you, Spikey."

Vash smiled warmly. "You're welcome."

They remained where they were for half an hour, neither saying a word, before they returned to their room. Nothing had to be said; it was all expressed in simply being with one another.

* * *

From across the room, Nicholas sat at the table, cigarette in hand, and eyes fixated on the person peacefully asleep on the bed. The words that came to the priest's mind to describe Vash were "absolutely breathtaking," causing him to inwardly reprimand himself for thinking so absurdly. What possessed him to take note of the outlaw's attractiveness? _Why _did he find him attractive? Ever since Vash had let the preacher dominate his body, Nicholas couldn't contain himself from viewing the other man differently. And not just as a physical object he knew he could get immense pleasure from now; it was something more, something he had wondered if he'd ever experience. Apparently, Vash held the key to more than just saving humans from ultimate genocide.

Wolfwood snarled in disgust, replaying Zazie's words in his mind. Something of _his_. The implication of Vash being _his _made the preacher's blood boil. Vash the Stampede was a free spirit, a drifter, and a loner. He tended to never let anyone too close in order to prevent them from being harmed, in order to keep his heavy burdens his own. If Vash was going to belong to someone, it was going to be to Wolfwood.

The admission of wanting to lay claim on Vash for himself made Wolfwood instantly regret getting lost in his thoughts.

_What the hell am I saying?! I don't want him! You're here to do a damn job, Wolfwood. Get your shit together and quit thinking about him like that! _

He noticed a sudden change in Vash's expression that made him wonder if he was dreaming about complicated feelings and loyalties too. It didn't take him long to notice something was quite wrong, however. Vash's hand clenched in to a fist, his teeth grinded, and his brow creased as his entire body became extremely tense. His breathing grew ragged as he emitted small, strangled noises. Nicholas discarded his cigarette in the ashtray and started towards his comrade.

* * *

"_I've found you, Vash the Stampede."_

_The voice was unfamiliar to Vash; it seeped in to his skin, in to his very bones and chilled him to the core. _

"_Who are you?" he questioned sternly, doing his best to keep his voice even._

"_Legato. I humbly serve the one you've been seeking."_

"_What do you want with me?"_

"_You're very close. Soon, your journey will end. You have kept him waiting for quite some time."_

_Vash didn't have to ask for the intruder to elaborate. _

"_He looks forward to your return. You've become strong, but I doubt you will be any sort of threat to him."_

"_He must be stopped. I _will _try."_

"_Your persistence will be your downfall, Vash the Stampede. I am here to grant you another chance. Join him…..or suffer in a living Hell."_

"_I will _never _join him."_

"_Such a shame. With the powers you possess, the two of you together would have had incomprehensible possibilities."_

"_Those are possibilities I do not want to pursue or ever know."_

_A spiteful chuckle came from the unwanted guest. "Before I leave, shall I show you the latest victory?"_

_Images commenced flashing in Vash's mind. Blood and various body parts strewn throughout a city's streets. The survivors' shrieks of panic and anguish. The glint of a sharp blade. Buildings on fire. People running. The plant being ripped from its base and lifted in to the air. Dead bodies._

Vash bolted upright, a terrified and furious scream tearing itself out of his throat. His eyes darted everywhere. In the moonlight, his skin glistened from the cold sweat blanketing him. He suddenly felt a hand on his right arm, promptly causing his bionic one to change in to its gun form. He aimed it at the person in front of him, unable to see who it was; his vision was clouded by rage and horror.

Nicholas thought his heart stopped from the emotions exploding in Vash's usually kind green eyes. He had never felt remotely scared of this man before; right now, however, he believed Vash could easily be a cold-blooded killer. The gun barrel pressed against his forehead and the mad glint in the blonde's eyes almost made him wonder if this was going to be how he would die.

"Vash!" he yelled firmly, though his voice was tremulous. "It's me! Put that thing away!"

The gloved hand tightened its grip around the gun's handle; his finger was curled around the trigger and ready to pull.

"Vash look at me! Listen to my voice! It's alright!"

"What did you do to them?!" Vash shouted frantically and with such wrath in his voice, Nicholas found himself unable to answer. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO THEM?!" the blonde repeated more violently. "ALL OF THOSE PEOPLE!"

"Vash, it's Wolfwood. Whoever you saw in your dream, they're not here." He took note of the minute softening in the other man's infuriated gaze and seized the opportunity to cautiously place his hand on top of the gun barrel. "Vash….Spikey….It's just you and me here."

Gradually, the Vash he knew started to return. He guided the outlaw's arm down, never once letting his eyes stray from the jade ones that were now expressing indescribable turmoil and uncertainty.

"It's okay, Spikey. Just you and me."

The man's arm was entirely lowered to his side before Wolfwood at last breathed a sigh of relief. It changed back in to its original form, and Vash buried his head in his hands. His body started to shake as he sobbed uncontrollably. Wolfwood took a seat next to him on the bed, wrapped his arms around him, and held him to his chest.

For being a preacher, Wolfwood wasn't used to being in a position of comforting someone, though for Vash, he would do his best. It seemed that simply cradling the gunman to him was enough for the time being. The sight and sound of Vash crying freely was heart-wrenching. He had been witness to a few of the blonde's lowest moments, but this was the worst he had seen.

"Come on, Spikey," he soothed, brushing his fingers through the man's hair. "It's alright. Try and take a deep breath. It'll be fine."

It was twenty minutes before Vash regained his composure. He got up without a word, went to the bathroom to splash some water on to his flushed face, and then returned to sit next to Wolfwood. A couple more minutes ticked by before the priest at last spoke.

"So you care to share what that was about?"

Vash was silent, his eyes focused on the floor.

"What's bothering you?" He placed a reassuring hand on his comrade's back and rubbed it affectionately.

There was a heavy sigh before Vash replied, "He's close. One of his servants infiltrated my dream. He's….done such horrible things."

"What did you see?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

There was a beat before Wolfwood prodded, "It seems that no one is immune to Knives' cruelty. I'm guessing not even his own brother."

Vash visibly swallowed, and Wolfwood could see the emotional response welling in the man's eyes.

"And yet….you still care about him, don't you?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"He wasn't always this way," was the quiet answer. "He used to be…."

"Like you. But something happened and now he's a homicidal maniac out for revenge. And for some insane reason, you still care about him."

"You don't understand, Wolfwood. You _can't._ I know his anger. I still feel it myself."

"Now you're making excuses for his actions?"

Vash sharply turned his head to look at the preacher. "No," he said sternly.

"Just like you did when he cut off your arm-"

"No-"

"What about July?"

"Stop it!" Vash shouted heatedly.

For a minute or so, the two regarded one another without a word. The small fire Wolfwood had ignited in the gunman's gaze eventually dwindled.

"I'm sorry," Vash spoke in almost a whisper, looking away once more.

"No, I'm the one who should be saying that. But I just don't understand what goes on in your head, Spikey. Or your heart."

"I know what I _have _to do. I just don't know if I _can._"

"You're not going to be able to reason with him, I'll tell you that right now."

"I know….I know that."

"With all he's done, it should be easy for you to take him out. What's holding you back?"

_He loves him, _Wolfwood thought to himself with slight irritation.

"Vash….Whatever you shared with your brother all those years ago….forget it. It's in the past. And now….Millions Knives is a mass murderer. Is that the kind of family you want back in your life? Because I'm pretty certain he carries no qualms about adding _you _to his body count the first chance he gets. Real brotherly love, if you ask me," he ended with vicious sarcasm.

Vash sighed and closed his eyes. _Knives….if only you could see things differently. It doesn't have to be this way, _he reflected dejectedly. _They don't have to be the enemy. _We _don't have to be enemies. _

He brought his knees to his chest and hugged them. "Sometimes…." he started softly. Wolfwood could detect the seriousness and pain in his voice. "….Maybe….It would've been best if….we had never been born."

Wolfwood wanted to slap him for saying such a thing, yet decided against it. Instead, he gripped the outlaw's shoulders firmly and turned him to look directly at him. "Don't you ever think that. Whether you believe it or not or even _know _it, you've touched a lot of lives for the better."

"How? I cause destruction and anger wherever I go-"

"When I first met you, I thought you were an absolute buffoon." The blatant honesty made Vash smirk. "I thought you had no interest in anyone other than yourself. That same day, I saw you risk your own life to save a little girl. The day after that it was someone else. I've seen you do it countless times. You've even saved _mine. _You put _everyone _before yourself. You've let me seen the consequences of your humility and kindness, the cost that's been paid all these years for you protecting everyone but yourself; it's plainly written all over your body."

"Nich-"

The rest of the sentence was lost due to Wolfwood silencing him with his lips. The instant Vash felt the priest's mouth on his, his heart pounded faster and tingles of rapture shot through his veins. A gentle hand cupped his face, and he gave in completely to the loving kiss. When they had engaged each other like this the first time, feelings he didn't understand or wish to address had stirred within him. They returned now, stronger than ever.

At last, Nicholas pulled away. There was something in his eyes Vash had never seen and it stole his breath for a few seconds.

"You…." Nicholas' voice was unsteady and weighted with ardor. "You mean a lot to people, Spikey. To _me._ I would go to the end with you and fight by your side if you'd let me. I'd gladly take a bullet for you because even if _you _don't believe you can win this war against Knives, _I _believe in you. I trust you with everything I have. I-"

It was Vash's turn to interrupt. He grabbed Nicholas' face and kissed him fervently. Strong arms enveloped him, and he soon found himself in the priest's lap, straddling Nicholas' waist. Excited prickles traveled through his body. It wasn't long before his cock was hard; as he grinded against the other man, he was relieved to discover Wolfwood was erect as well.

Vash lifted his arms, and Wolfwood took the hint, pulling the Humanoid Typhoon's shirt off and throwing it aside. Hands roamed over his bare skin – gripping, clawing, and caressing anywhere they could get to. As he moved his lips to Wolfwood's neck, he pressed on the preacher's shoulders to lay him down. His slender fingers deftly flew through the task of unbuttoning the dark-haired man's shirt, granting him the chance to kiss down Wolfwood's torso.

"Where you going?" Nicholas asked practically breathlessly when Vash suddenly got off of him; he propped himself up on his elbows in order to see the gunman clearly.

He received the answer to his inquiry as he watched Vash kneel on the floor. Seemingly impatient hands tugged down his pants. There was a flicker of uncertainty in the blonde's bright eyes, yet he continued with what he set out to do. He clasped his fingers around the priest's erection and with one last glance at Nicholas before closing his eyes, he lowered his head and took in as much of the man's length as he could in to his mouth.

The instant he felt the heat and wetness of the oral cavity, Nicholas tossed his head back and moaned. Vash accompanied his sucking with rubbing his hand up and down the shaft, making Wolfwood's toes curl and his breathing quicken. Often, he felt the gunman's tongue lap at the tip and curl around his hard member.

_Where in the hell did he learn to give such good head?! _he thought to himself. It was by far the best he had ever received. Vash knew exactly what to do to get him to quiver and groan in ecstasy like a helpless puppet. As he observed Vash moving up and down between his legs, he almost asked the question, though hurriedly caught himself. He swallowed in order to help keep the abrupt infuriation and jealousy he now had at bay. If Zazie's inferences were true, he knew where Vash had learned such perfected techniques and for whom he had performed them on.

"Spikey…." he whispered, reaching his hand out to touch the man's cheek. Vash opened his eyes to meet Wolfwood's gaze. "That's good. I want _you_ now."

The words caused Vash to tremble imperceptibly. He too was aching for Nicholas to have him.

Leisurely, Vash ceased his ministrations and permitted the preacher to guide him to lie on his back. He giggled at how swiftly and easily the priest was able to remove the rest of his clothing; his heart raced and his cheeks turned a light shade of red as he now lay wholly naked. Nicholas shed his shirt, and Vash watched him stand up from the bed, take off the remainder of his clothes, and retrieve what the Humanoid Typhoon recognized to be the bottle of lubricant from their first time. The outlaw expected Wolfwood to use it and enter him right away, but it wasn't to be the case. Instead, Wolfwood climbed atop him, held the blonde's arms above his head, and slowly began to place delicate kisses on to the scarred flesh. Vash gasped whenever he felt the man's tongue lick and glide over his skin. He whimpered shamelessly, squirming under Wolfwood as he was flooded by exquisite sensations. His cock was throbbing, dying to be touched by Nicholas' hand, and his body yearned to be satiated by his comrade.

"Nicholas," he forced out. "Please…."

Wolfwood grinned wickedly. He dipped the tip of his tongue in to the gunman's navel, causing Vash to emit a strangled cry of pleasure. "Not yet." Vash gave a whine like a disappointed child, making Wolfwood chuckle. "Soon." He lightly bit his partner's nipple, enjoying the surprised and delighted response the action received. "I promise."

"Nich-"

The priest hushed him with a finger pressed to his lips. "Shhh….Close your eyes and let me make you forget everything for tonight."

Wolfwood smiled benevolently upon seeing Vash's eyes become glassy. He leaned down to kiss the blonde several times, loving the feel of his comrade's fingers in his hair.

"Let me do something for you, Vash the Stampede," he whispered in to the man's ear, accompanying the statement with nibbling on Vash's lobe and gently tugging on the silver earring with his teeth. He was rewarded with a number of shaky moans.

Not until Vash's eyes closed did Nicholas continue his exploration of the Humanoid Typhoon's body. His hands traversed the nude being freely while his mouth conquered other areas. He was pleased whenever he made the man flinch in rapture. He wanted nothing more than to give Vash the most indescribable night he could, to make his comrade feel protected, desired, and treasured.

Eventually, he found himself below the blonde's waist. He licked along the length of Vash's cock; the resulting moan it brought made his own twitch with excitement. Unhurriedly, he inched his hands along the inside of the gunman's thighs. Sweat shined on Vash's face and body; his mouth was open as he emitted constant sounds of bliss. Desperately, his hands clutched at the sheets, needing something to hold on to as he was submerged in utter carnality.

"P-Please," he pleaded with weak urgency. "Please just take me. I….I need you."

Those three words made Nicholas stop. It was spoken, in his mind, as nothing more than for the fulfillment sexually, but he badly wanted to have it mean Vash needed him in everything. As a friend. A defender. A fighter. A comforter. A lover.

"Turn over," Wolfwood instructed quietly. Vash obeyed promptly. While the preacher coated his erection with the lubricant, Vash braced himself on his hands and knees. His heart thumped away violently in his chest. He felt more at ease than he had been during their first time, though nervousness still rushed through him. There was a fear of disappointing Wolfwood.

A consoling hand rested on his shoulder for a brief moment, as if Wolfwood could hear his thoughts, before it moved to his hip. Instinctively, he tensed the instant he felt the head of Wolfwood's cock ease inside of him. He let out a pained whimper, closed his eyes, and bowed his head. Wolfwood withdrew from the man's body only to penetrate Vash once again more deeply than before. He noticed the blonde shuddering and saw a tear seep in to the sheet below.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked with concern.

Vash took several deep breaths before shaking his head. "No," was the faint response. He inhaled sharply, and Nicholas watched another teardrop fall. "No, I want you to keep going."

Nicholas wasn't about to argue; he was aching to ride Vash, to make the Humanoid Typhoon _his. _

It was difficult, but Nicholas managed to contain himself from forcing his hard member in to Vash in one thrust. He went slowly, gauging the blonde's reactions for when he could speed it up. Languidly, he trailed his hand down Vash's back, traced the gunman's arched spine. After a few minutes, he started to thrust in and out of the man's body at a moderate pace. With every push, Vash let out a soft grunt. He was abruptly quieted by Nicholas' fingers probing his mouth. Vehemently, he sucked on the priest's digits, happy to hear Wolfwood moan in return.

The preacher's fingers eventually glided against Vash's cheek before Wolfwood firmly gripped his hips. A hurt groan came from him due to the crushing pressure Wolfwood was putting on his fresh bruise from the night before, though the dark-haired man didn't seem to notice.

Nicholas' propulsions became faster and more powerful as he neared his climax. Vash fell to his elbows and rested his forehead against the bed, crying out with every vigorous thrust.

At last, Nicholas went rigid and stopped. Vash felt the warm liquid spill inside of him and waited patiently for Nicholas to pull away, but was taken aback when he felt the preacher grab hold of his cock.

"You don't have to," Vash panted, though his head was reeling in rapture as his comrade vigorously rubbed up and down his shaft.

"It's only fair," Wolfwood purred.

Nicholas smiled amusedly at how quickly the blonde reached orgasm. Apparently, he was very sensitive tonight.

Legs entangled with one another's, Nicholas laid on his back with Vash snuggled against him. Their heavy breathing resonated in the otherwise silent room. For a long while, neither said a word. Affectionately, Wolfwood stroked Vash's no longer spiked, damp hair. The gunman traced various patterns on the preacher's chest, lost in his own thoughts. He couldn't remember ever feeling as content or wanted as he did now. Maybe there had been a time with Knives, but the memory had been lost over the years. In this moment, he felt as if a lifetime with Wolfwood by his side still wouldn't be long enough. How had he allowed himself to be blind to his profound connection with Wolfwood? His eyes filled with tears at the thought of never having an instance like this again with the priest. Knives was close and therefore, so was his own likely death. In his mind, it was inevitable; either he and Knives would die together or Knives would get the upper hand and murder him.

Nicholas felt the outlaw tremble, making him hold Vash tighter.

"Nicholas?" Vash asked, his voice strangled by threatening tears and laced with enormous emotion.

"What is it, Spikey?"

There was a pause before the blonde murmured, "Thank you."

Nicholas was about to inquire "what for?" but thought better of it. Instead, he placed a tender kiss on the man's forehead and whispered, "Get some sleep, Spikey."

Vash nuzzled his face against Wolfwood's chest before he settled down and closed his eyes. From the exertion of Nicholas making love to him, it was mere minutes before his body relaxed entirely and he fell asleep, a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips.


	4. Say You'll Stay the Night

The first sun was just beginning to rise when Nicholas awoke. He was lying on his side and sighed contently from the feel of Vash's body pressed against his back and the man's arm slung over him. By the sound of his breathing, the priest could tell the blonde was still asleep. He took the man's hand and kissed it before slipping out of Vash's embrace. Trying not to disturb his comrade's sleep, he carefully and slowly got up from the bed and started putting on his clothes.

The movement of the mattress roused Vash. He exhaled a deep breath before opening his eyes tiredly.

"Where you going?" he asked sleepily.

Nicholas turned around and brushed his fingers through the disheveled blonde hair a couple times. "Just want to get some fresh air. Go back to sleep."

Vash smiled from Wolfwood caressing his face and closed his eyes. Wolfwood waited a minute or so before he silently left the room.

* * *

It was a couple hours later when Vash stretched out, breathed in deeply, gradually exhaled, and sat up. He wearily glanced around the room, not seeing Wolfwood anywhere.

"Wolfy?" he called gently.

He put his hand on the back of his neck and sighed. To say he wasn't a tad upset would be a lie. The feeling didn't last long, however, as the door opened and Nicholas entered. Immediately, Vash felt flutters in his stomach. He beamed happily as the priest sat beside him on the bed.

"I wondered if you'd be up. Here, I got you these," Nicholas said, handing the blonde a box of donuts.

Vash took them graciously and wasted no time in starting to devour the food. "Thank ya thank ya!" he voiced with a mouth full.

"Just don't get any crumbs on the bed, alright?"

A thumbs-up was the reply.

"Sleep well?"

"Mmhm."

"No more nightmares?"

Vash shook his head.

"Good."

In what seemed like no time at all, Vash had downed the entire dozen donuts.

"Mmmm, delicious," he said with satisfaction.

"Hit the spot?"

"Very much so! Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Vash laughed a bit sheepishly before questioning, "Uh, it's a little late now, but did you want some?"

"That's very considerate of you," Wolfwood answered with a small smile, causing the gunman to return the gesture. "I already ate."

"Okay good."

They sat in silence for a minute or so before Vash spoke rather seriously, "I'm leaving tomorrow."

"I figured you'd want to start moving soon."

"I have to face him alone. You don't-"

"I'm coming."

Vash turned his head and Wolfwood met his gaze. "There's no need to-"

"I'm going to the end with you." The outlaw was about to respond, though Wolfwood cut him off. "There's no reason to argue about it, Spikey. Not going to change my mind."

Vash sighed and rested his head in his hands. "Stubborn bastard," he muttered. He glanced at the priest and grinned.

Nicholas gave an amused laugh and slapped the other man on the back. "That's rich coming from you. You're the most stubborn person I've ever met! If anything, you rubbed off on me."

"Yeah, I kind of have that effect on people."

"It's annoying." Nicholas pulled a cigarette from his jacket pocket, lit it, and took a drag. "Now, if we're leaving tomorrow, we need some supplies. Also need to give Angelina Two a tune-up. So….get around, sleeping beauty. I'll be waiting downstairs."

Wolfwood stood and made his way to the door. Before he closed the entrance, he turned to steal a last glance at Vash and was quite pleased to see the man's nude body in full. A hungry leer crept on to the priest's face.

If he had anything to do with it, he'd be exploring that physique one last time later in the night.

* * *

After stocking up on ammunition, Vash returned to the inn in order to clean his silver revolver and the gun in his arm. He made sure his quick refill canisters were full with six bullets, the submachine gun had shells ready to fire, and set aside ammo to put in his outside coat pockets in the morning. Surveying the table with all of his supplies laid out before him, he felt queasy. The realization of at last confronting his brother was sinking in entirely. Ever since they had separated decades ago, he had imagined their eventual meet up often. He played out every scenario in his mind: Knives defeating him, him defeating Knives, or the least possible outcome of Knives having a change of heart.

_I know you want me. I'm coming….I just hope I'm ready. Whatever happens….I tried, Rem. Please know I tried._

He closed his eyes, letting a lone tear escape.

_Rem….please help me. Please give me strength. Let me know this has all been worth it and what I should do. I know it's not right to take someone else's life, but I don't know what else would stop him. Help me see another way. There's _always _another way, right? And he's my brother. I love him. I….can't….What do I do, Rem? _

He folded his arms on the table, rested his head atop them, and cried freely as his emotions overwhelmed him.

* * *

It was late afternoon when Vash ventured outside once again. He started down the street, smiling from spotting Wolfwood sitting on the ground working away at fixing his motorcycle.

"How's it coming?" he asked as he approached him.

"Good! Gave her an oil change, some gas, changed a couple pistons. Just finishing tightening up some bolts at the moment." Wolfwood got to his feet, wiped his brow with the back of his hand, and turned on the ignition. "Aha! Listen to that. Almost like new. We shouldn't have any trouble getting there, no matter how far."

"I have a feeling it isn't that much."

"Well, we'll be good to go either way. Now, I'm going to get cleaned up. What say you to having a few drinks with your friends tonight?"

"The insurance girls?"

"The only other friends you have."

Vash smirked. "Got me there. Alright. I could use one more night of drinking."

Wolfwood noticed the green eyes cloud with a hint of remorse. He clapped the blonde on the shoulder and voiced reassuringly, "I believe you'll have many more. I'll buy you a round when this is all over."

"Thanks, but you think you could change that offer and buy tonight? It's a sure thing I'll make it to then."

"Sure, why not? Just don't go overboard like the last time, Spikey."

Vash gave a light chuckle. "I won't. Promise."

Wolfwood squeezed Vash's shoulder to serve as an affectionate gesture before treading back to the inn. Vash stared towards the vast desert outside of the city.

_Tomorrow….I'm coming for you, Knives. _

* * *

"Give me another, please!"

"Millie, I think you've had quite enough."

"No no! I'm….fine!"

Meryl sighed exasperatedly. "Give her another."

Wolfwood obliged and poured the brunette a shot of Wild Turkey. While she downed it, Vash returned to sit at the table with a round of four beers.

"Ahhh! That-that hit the spot! Let me have one of those!"

"_Millie!_"

Paying no attention to Meryl's chastising, Millie grabbed one of the mugs from Vash and was about to chug it when Wolfwood put a hand on her arm.

"Hey! Slow down there!"

"Huh?"

"I propose a toast first." He took a glass and held it up. "To good friends, a good life, and good love." At those last few words, he locked eyes with Vash, who smiled shyly and blushed a little. "Cheers!"

"Cheers!" the three others echoed, clinking their glasses against the preacher's.

They went silent as all of them drank as much as they could. Only Meryl was unable to finish hers in one go.

"Woohoo!" Millie voiced merrily. The live band in the bar began a new song, causing her to clap her hands together and say delightedly, "Oh, I love this one! Come on, Mr. Vash! Let's dance!"

"Well, I'm not really a dan-"

The last bit of his sentence was cut off as the tall woman grabbed his arm and practically dragged him to the dance floor. She calmed down enough to let him take the lead, giggling uncontrollably, which made the Humanoid Typhoon laugh along with her. A broad grin remained on his countenance, and Nicholas could detect the sheer joy in his bright eyes. It was the least Nicholas could do, he thought, taking the man out for a few drinks. He had hoped it'd keep Vash from thinking about what was to come. As he watched the two friends dance – or rather attempt to; neither had a sense of rhythm – he could tell the heavy thoughts had left Vash's mind for the time being. Tomorrow, all Hell would break loose; one more carefree night had definitely been in order.

His heart leapt when Vash turned to look at him. For a moment, everything around them disappeared. The two of them were alone, exchanging unspoken words of feelings that neither still wanted to admit to. The blonde winked at him, making him laugh to himself and give a small wave.

They both were suddenly taken by surprise from Millie grasping Vash's face and kissing him on the lips.

"Oopsie!" she exclaimed before passing out. Vash caught her before she hit the ground, slung her arm across his shoulders, and brought her back to the table.

With a slightly embarrassed chuckle, Vash confessed, "Maybe we should call it a night."

* * *

After helping Meryl get Millie back to their residence, Vash and Wolfwood returned to theirs.

"Woo, what a night, eh needle-noggin'?" the priest asked somewhat tiredly.

"Yeah," Vash replied with a smile, starting to unbutton his coat. "She sure can drink, huh?"

"I'm almost tempted to say she could give me a run for my money one of these days."

Once the blonde had removed his coat, he stared at it, and Wolfwood regarded him closely. The gunman had his back to him, but Nicholas could sense the heaviness weighing on him. Vash was utterly still as he focused on his garment. A tear splashed onto one of the buttons.

"You alright?" Nicholas asked with concern. There was no answer. "Vash?"

"She loved the color red," the outlaw stated so quietly, Nicholas almost didn't hear it. "It was the color of her favorite flower. I sometimes think….by wearing red….she's always with me."

Not knowing what to say, the preacher remained silent. He watched as Vash hugged the coat to him lovingly, the fabric absorbing the few tears that tracked down his cheeks. A number of seconds went by before he inhaled deeply and proceeded to hang it up in the wardrobe.

"Vash…."

The blonde wiped his face and replaced his somber expression with a cheery one. "So!" he said energetically. "You going to sleep? I think I'm gonna stay up for a bit."

Wolfwood was speechless at the abrupt change in mood.

Vash began unbuckling and unbuttoning the black armor suit. It took him less than five minutes to be out of it and changed in to his usual bed clothes. While he had been busy with that, Nicholas sat at the table with two shot glasses and filled them with whiskey.

"Wanna share a few more?"

The Humanoid Typhoon grinned and settled in the chair across from him. "Why not?"

They threw the shots back, slammed the glasses on to the table, and sighed at the burning sensation in their throats.

"Packs quite a punch, huh?" Nicholas said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, no kiddin'."

"Another?"

"Of course."

They drank three more before calling it quits. Vash folded his arms and put them on the table as he leaned forward. He couldn't bring himself to look at the preacher until Wolfwood spoke again.

"I know you have your secrets, but seeing as how it's our last night together, mind tellin' me exactly what you are? Demon? Angel? God himself?"

Vash gave a small laugh. "No, nothing that exotic or important. I'm a plant. Apart from one other, Knives and I are the only independent, free-thinking ones we know of."

"I thought plants were supposed to work for humans."

"It's what we were made for. We just ended up turning out differently. Knives' plan is to create a world in which only plants live. He doesn't trust humans."

"What's the story on that?"

"It's a long one. I don't feel like talking about it."

A long pause settled between the two. There was one question the priest desired to ask above all else, yet he hesitated from not wanting to upset his comrade. What _was _the story on Vash's relationship with Knives? Had it, _did _it, cross the line of being more than just typical brothers to one another? Was there a chance he'd ever be able to take Knives' place in Vash's life?

Letting his curiosity get the better of him and throwing all correctness out the window, Nicholas bluntly asked, "You slept with him, didn't you?"

Vash's green eyes widened and his face turned pale. "Wh-What?"

"Your brother. You slept with him. It's why you can't bring yourself to kill him, isn't it?"

The gunman attempted to respond, but his throat was constricted.

"You two were all you had. If Knives has such hatred of humans, I doubt he'd sully himself by laying with one. That leaves only you. The only one he deems worthy. Am I close?"

Vash swallowed and his vision became blurry. Nicholas saw the shame and embarrassment written on his countenance. Bowing his head, the blonde said shakily, "Yeah, you're close."

"Did he force himself on you? Did you want it?" He knew he was prying in business he had no right to be; he blamed the alcohol speaking for him.

"….Sometimes."

"Sometimes what?"

"….It was always my fault….But there were times….He'd say he did it for mating purposes, that maybe somehow the two of us would be able to recreate a plant with free-will….The other times….I knew he loved me."

"Do you love him?"

"He's the only family I have left."

"Are you _in love_ with him?"

There was no reply.

"Vash-"

The blonde suddenly stood up, his focus still on the floor. "I think I'm going to try and sleep now."

He made it halfway to the bed before Nicholas stepped in front of him.

"Please move," he pleaded quietly.

Wolfwood lifted the man's chin and stared directly at him. "For all those years, all you had was him," the priest began gently. "All you knew was the twisted, brutal love he gave you. But now…." He placed a delicate kiss on his comrade's cheek. Vash shivered from the touch. "….You have me. No matter what happens, Spikey, you have me."

Vash threw his arms around Wolfwood and hugged him securely. They held each other for a lengthy moment with neither saying a word. The blonde buried his face in the crook of the priest's neck, struggling to contain the incessant urge to weep. A comforting hand rested against the back of his head, massaging it gently. There was a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, something telling him to savor whatever physical and emotional contact he had with the preacher this night because it would never come again.

The gunman at last pulled away, searched Nicholas' dark eyes for reassurance and found undeniable yearning. It sent tingles down his spine, and he smiled timidly.

"One last time?" he whispered.

"You never have to ask, needle noggin'."

Rapidly, they started undressing one another. In a matter of seconds, they tumbled on to the bed, naked; Vash quickly took control and climbed atop Wolfwood, grinning at the somewhat surprised expression on the preacher's face.

"My turn to do all the work," the outlaw murmured seductively.

"Alright by me."

They kissed one another deeply; Wolfwood's hand ventured up the other man's arm to caress his cheek. Whenever his lips touched the Humanoid Typhoon's smooth ones, he felt himself heat up like a mild fire had been lit within him. There was something so unbelievably mesmerizing about kissing Vash; he doubted he would feel anything quite like it with someone else. The sensation of the tough, mutilated flesh against his own had grown to be something he knew he couldn't live without. He needed this man like he needed food and water. Right now, he didn't care what the hell he classified Vash as: friend, ally, lover – he simply knew he _needed _him to be _something _in his life for as long as he walked the planet.

Blindly, Vash reached for the bottle of lube on the nightstand, broke away from the priest's mouth, and sensually slicked Wolfwood's erection with the substance. His eyes eventually met the dark-haired man's, and Wolfwood found the shyness in the green orbs adorable.

_You'd think by now he'd be more confident, _Nicholas mused.

"Not wasting any time in getting down to business, eh?" he asked, letting out a low groan as long fingers traveled the length of his cock leisurely.

"We don't have much of it left," Vash stated somberly.

Nicholas stroked the Humanoid Typhoon's face a few times before trailing his hand down the man's chest. "Vash…."

"I….I want to remember how you feel….inside me….I don't ever want to forget."

Wolfwood didn't know how to respond, though it didn't matter as Vash raised himself up, took hold of the preacher's hard member, and guided it into his body. The blonde shut his eyes tightly and emitted several quiet whimpers as he slowly eased himself down until the other man was wholly within him. Wolfwood watched him eagerly, noting every grimace of pain that flickered across Vash's visage and drowning in every delicious sound the gunman uttered.

The priest placed his hands on Vash's waist, waiting almost impatiently for him to start moving. The blonde remained still for a time before at last he rocked forward. The movement caused both of them to moan in pleasure. He continued back and forth for a couple of minutes and then proceeded to move up and down, lifting himself almost completely off of Nicholas' cock as he did so. Nicholas closed his eyes, allowing himself to be overtaken by ecstasy. He could feel that he was deeper than he had ever been inside Vash's body. The Humanoid Typhoon seemed to share the sentiment; the sounds filtering out of his opened mouth were louder and shakier than the times before.

Beads of sweat began to glisten on their skin as Vash unreservedly rode his partner. He leaned forward and slammed his hands down onto the mattress on either side of Wolfwood's head as he put all of his energy in to the act.

"God, Vash," Wolfwood breathed. "You….So good…."

Vash panted as he worked diligently to bring his comrade to orgasm. Wolfwood firmly gripped the gunman's strong biceps and after a few more minutes, he went stiff. The blonde slowed down his movements and moaned with Wolfwood as the preacher climaxed.

Sitting upright, Vash let his head fall back and clenched his muscles around Nicholas' spent member. He gasped for breath and whimpered softly at the touch of the other male's fingers beginning to caress his exposed neck. He stayed in place as Nicholas sat up, enveloped him in his arms, and started licking along the taut skin. Affectionate, yet hungry kisses replaced tongue, eliciting unabashed sounds of ecstasy to escape from Vash's open mouth. He grabbed a fistful of Wolfwood's hair and lost himself in complete rapture.

"Wolfy…." he gasped. "I…I…."

"Shhh…."

The words Vash wanted to say wouldn't come. He knew the preacher cared about him and recently realized just how fiercely protective Nicholas was of him. Still, he feared what the man's reaction would be if he admitted feeling the way he did. Danger was something he could handle; rejection was another story, even though he had never really experienced it before.

Wolfwood at last pulled away and rested back down. Their breathing continued to be heavy and labored. Vash hovered over him, still quaking from the intensity of everything, and opened his eyes to discover Wolfwood gazing at him fondly.

"You're….you're amazing, you know that?" Wolfwood was able to voice sincerely with a wide grin.

Vash chuckled a little and blushed. "Think so?"

"Know so, Spikey."

For a handful of minutes, the two stared at one another longingly, both seemingly committing the intimate moment to memory – every detail, sound, sensation, emotion.

Unhurriedly, Vash got off of Wolfwood and was about to lay down next to the man, but was stopped as the priest sat up once again. Resting his forehead against the outlaw's, Wolfwood said tenderly, "I'm betting on you, tomorrow."

The Humanoid Typhoon clasped his fingers around his comrade's wrist as Nicholas cupped his face in his hands. "Don't say that," he sighed dejectedly.

"You can do it. I'll fight with you-"

"No. I have to do this alone. It's time I settled this once and for all."

"Then may the grace of God go with you."

The statement aroused a laugh out of both of them. "Thanks, mon père."

"You _will _survive. You're Vash the Stampede."

"Sometimes I wish I wasn't."

Nicholas raised the man's chin and stared at him sternly. "That's a shame. I sure do like that guy." The sentence succeeded in its intended purpose, to make the sixty-billion-double-dollar man smile. "Give him hell, Spikey."

"I will."

Vash leaned forward and brushed his lips against the preacher's. They shared several long, drawn-out kisses before Wolfwood pulled the gunman down to lay atop him. The blonde exhaled a satisfied breath as fingertips danced along his back.

"Since you're not human," Wolfwood began, perking Vash's attention, "do I need to be worried about side effects from having sex with a plant?"

Vash could hear in his comrade's tone that the priest wasn't being serious. "I don't know. You're the only human I've ever slept with," he answered mischievously, yet with complete honesty, and smiled.

"I suppose if I start acting like you or demonstrating your kind of abilities, I'll let you know."

"Please do."

Several minutes went by before Wolfwood muttered quietly, "Better try and sleep, Spikey. Going to need all your strength to face him."

"Yeah, I'll try."

* * *

An hour went by, and Vash remained wide awake. His mind was racing a mile a minute with thoughts and memories of his brother. He had an answer to Wolfwood's question from earlier, yet had been too mortified to share it. It made no sense to him why he'd still hold on to such feelings for Knives, and now he was being pulled in a different direction as his heart swelled for the preacher who continued to be a mystery to him.

"Wolfy?" he whispered almost inaudibly. "Nick."

Cautiously in order to not wake the other man, Vash got up and went to the small table at the opposite side of the room. He was glad to find what he was hoping for in the drawer: pen and paper. With a weighty sigh, he sat down, took up the pen, and commenced writing a lengthy letter.

If his confrontation with Knives was to be his last, he was going to make sure Nicholas D. Wolfwood knew exactly how he felt about him and his final thoughts as he neared the end; he would confess and confide everything to the priest. Whatever he hadn't been able to say aloud, he would commit it to paper.

Almost two hours passed before he finished. Folding the pages in half a couple of times, he stuffed the letter in to one of the inside pockets of his coat and returned to lay beside Wolfwood. He ran his fingers through the dark hair for a few minutes, placed a delicate kiss on to the man's cheek, and closed his eyes.

At last, his mind was at ease and he fell asleep.

* * *

Sunlight poured in to the room; the two occupants were already dressed and ready to leave.

After purchasing a dozen donuts, they sat down on a bench nearby and ate in silence. Begrudgingly, Vash shared three of them with his comrade; Wolfwood poked fun at the blonde for how protective he was about his favorite food, which made Vash simply scowl at him.

As they started towards the preacher's motorcycle, they were aware of everyone watching them warily. A group of six men formed a line in front of them, preventing them from advancing any farther.

"What seems to be the problem, boys?" Nicholas asked kindly. "We were just on our way out of town."

"We don't have any trouble with you, Father. Just your friend," one of them replied. "We know now that's Vash the Stampede, the sixty-billion-double-dollar man."

"I'm not here to cause any trouble," Vash stated cheerfully. The crowd of men aimed and cocked their guns at him, prompting him to hold up his arms to show he wouldn't try anything.

"We don't care about that! We intend to collect the bounty on your head!"

Without warning, a townsman fired his gun, making Wolfwood jump in surprise. Vash dodged the bullet by stepping to the side at a speed none could comprehend. It wasn't this ability that made everyone watching gasp in shock, however. A second shot had been fired from off to his right.

"Spikey…." Wolfwood voiced in disbelief.

Vash followed the priest's gaze and looked at his arm. "Oh no," he whispered fearfully.

The tendril dissipated, leaving in its wake feather-like crystals that floated to the ground. The strand of white had appeared seemingly out of his forearm and caught the shell before it penetrated the outlaw's head.

A grave hush hung in the air as everyone stared at him, horrified and stunned.

_I still have so much to learn about this power, _Vash reflected. _It doesn't even need my thought to activate it….I'm sure Knives knows all about our capabilities and I have yet to fully understand…._

"Wh-….What are you?" someone finally questioned. All at once, the two were bombarded with angry shouting.

"DEMON!"

"He's not human!"

"Get him out of here!"

"Go back to Hell!"

"Get out of here! We don't want you!"

"DEVIL!"

"He's the Diablo!"

"That's enough!" Wolfwood yelled furiously. "We were just leaving!"

The insults continued to be hurled at Vash as he and the preacher hurried to the motorcycle. They loaded their belongings and sped off toward the wilderness.

"Jeeze, Spikey, what the hell _was_ that?!" Nicholas questioned, still flabbergasted at what had just happened. He had seen Vash liberate his power before and witnessed it fully unrestrained; he hadn't expected it to reveal itself on such a small scale and without more of an impact on the Humanoid Typhoon like transforming his body. There had been no indication of it having been triggered.

There was no answer. He glanced at the gunman and felt a tinge of pity; Vash looked greatly troubled and undeniably miserable. Nicholas could tell the harsh words had gotten to him.

"Don't listen to them, Vash. They don't know what they're talking about."

"Maybe they're right," was the despondent response.

"Now stop that! Don't you dare think that, Spikey!"

Vash bowed his head, and Nicholas was taken aback at what he saw. Amidst the golden spiked locks, a tiny portion had turned dark brown; it was immensely noticeable in stark contrast to the otherwise blonde hair.

_What the? When did _that_ happen? _

Deciding not to further possibly add to Vash's worries, Nicholas said nothing. Pushing sixty iles an hour, they sped off in the direction of the twin suns.


	5. Homecoming

**A/N: **Big thanks to Lady Geuna for the nice reviews. Made me smile. :D

* * *

Three hours in to their trip, they stopped to take a break and stretch. Wolfwood lit a cigarette and observed his companion, who stood immobile several feet ahead of him. Vash had been relatively quiet ever since they had left the city, a solemn expression clouding his features the entire time. The preacher could only imagine what thoughts were running through the man's head.

_Nothing good, I'm sure….What in the hell?_

Something caught his attention, causing him to step towards the gunman. From under the blonde's coat collar, Wolfwood noticed a handful of exquisite feathers that had seemingly sprouted from the back of Vash's neck; they looked the same as the ones that had formed from the outlaw's arm and stopped the bullet earlier.

"Uh, Vash?"

Turning around, the Humanoid Typhoon met the priest's eyes and asked, "Yeah?"

Judging by his reaction, Wolfwood determined Vash had no idea about the plumage. "Nothing," he said after a moment. _Why trouble him with it? _he thought.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. It's nothing."

Vash offered a thoughtful smile, though Wolfwood could see just how weary and melancholy he truly was. It pained the preacher to not be able to alleviate any of his friend's burdens; there was no way to soothe the man's mind.

"He's close," Vash spoke gravely. "I feel it. It won't be much farther."

"Paid any thought to what you'll say to him when you see him?"

The blonde pondered this for a minute before replying with an empty chuckle, "No, I haven't. Guess I half expect to just aim my gun at him and shoot."

"I think that's perfectly acceptable."

Without a word, Vash removed the cigarette from Nicholas' mouth. The preacher was about to object from assuming his comrade was going to extinguish it on the ground, but was stunned when Vash took a drag from it. Nicholas was surprised the man didn't have a coughing fit; instead, it was as if Vash had done it before.

After exhaling a stream of smoke, Vash tossed the butt to the ground and squashed it under his boot. "Honestly, Wolfy. It's such a bad habit."

"What the hell was that for?!"

"Ready?"

Vash made his way back to the side car of the bike, grinning at the flustered and irritated look on the priest's face and the growl that accompanied it.

"Damn it, Spikey," Nicholas grumbled and hopped on the motorcycle. "You're lucky I don't punch you."

"I'm looking out for your health! You should be thanking me."

"Cigarettes to me are like donuts to you. Next time you're eating one, I'll knock it out of your hand! See how you like it!"

"I'd like to see you try!"

"Oh I will!"

Vash rested his head in his hand and closed his eyes as they began traveling once more. He hoped Wolfwood would get the chance, but his heart told him otherwise.

_You'll find someone else to do it to, Wolfy, _he reasoned mournfully. _And that's okay….It's okay…._

Discreetly, he wiped away a couple of tears that raced down his cheeks, praying that Nicholas didn't notice.

* * *

It was two hours later when they stopped again; this time, it was because they had reached their destination. In the middle of the open desert, another ship of only a handful that had survived the Great Fall had made its final resting place. Even though he'd seen one before when he had accompanied Vash to visit his "family," Wolfwood found himself in awe of its size.

"This is it," Vash had stated as they approached in the motorcycle.

"How can you be sure?" The priest took note of a number of feathers leaving a trail behind them; more continued to fly from the back of the gunman's neck.

"I'm sure. I can feel him."

Wolfwood parked half an ile away from the ship, expecting them to infiltrate in some covert way. He soon found out this was not to be the case, however; casually as ever, Vash strolled towards the craft.

"You intend to just go through the front door?!" Nicholas yelled as he caught up to the other man.

"Yeah."

Nicholas started stuttering, incredibly flummoxed.

"It's not like he doesn't know I'm coming, Wolfy. I think he's done sending others to do the dirty work for him. He's ready to fight me himself."

Vash wondered if his calm façade was fooling Nicholas at all; inside, his heart was pounding uncomfortably fast and his stomach felt like it was doing flips. The perspiration on his skin wasn't only from the heat of the suns; he was utterly on edge and afraid. If he was being entirely honest, he was also eager to see his brother.

Acting as if he had been there before, Vash entered the vessel without hesitation. The large, seemingly empty space was dimly lit. The air was rank with the smell of blood and gunpowder.

"Apparently, we're not the only ones to visit," Wolfwood muttered.

A staircase loomed in front of them, and a figure clad in white descended the steps.

"You've finally come, Vash the Stampede," a silky voice greeted. "We've been waiting."

"And you are?" Vash inquired evenly.

"Elendira. Crimson Nail. You may call me either." As she came to stand in front of them, she curtly addressd Wolfwood. "Chapel."

"Good to see you too," the priest answered with bitter sarcasm.

"Where's Knives?" The outlaw didn't care to waste any time.

"Outside. Straight down that corridor and through the door."

Vash hastily began to tread towards the hallway that would lead him at last to his brother, but Wolfwood grabbed his arm, causing him to turn around.

"This is it, Spikey," the preacher said quietly. "Let me come with you."

"No, Nicholas. Not this time." They stared at one another for several seconds in silence. Vash smiled sweetly, removed his sunglasses from his face, and placed them in to Wolfwood's hand. "Something to remember me by, okay?" His voice quivered from the growing impulse to cry; he felt as if he were bursting at the seams from the emotions exploding inside of him.

Nicholas glanced down at his palm and closed his eyes. It took everything he had to keep his composure. "I'll hold on to them until you come back for 'em," he replied and gazed at the tearful green eyes of his comrade. "For safe keeping. You _will _come back for them."

Vash swallowed hard and nodded. "Sure. I'll come back for them."

Wolfwood suddenly put his arms around the blonde and hugged the gunman tightly. Vash held on to him strongly in return, knowing that the instant he let go, he'd be letting his dearest friend go forever.

"I'm still betting on you, remember?" Wolfwood murmured into the outlaw's ear.

Vash shut his eyes; tears flooded down his face. "Mmhm," was all he could answer with.

"I'll be here when it's over, alright?"

A few shuddering breaths was the response.

"Take. Care. Of him, Spikey. It's up to you now to save us all." A couple of clear droplets fell from the preacher's dark eyes. His throat choked on the words he knew he needed to say, the words that mattered more than anything.

"I'll….I'll do my best, Wolfy. Promise."

At last, they pulled away from one another. Vash's fingers twitched at his side; it was now or never, giving the priest the letter he had written for him the night before. He inwardly shouted irately at himself for realizing he couldn't bring himself to share it.

"Well," Nicholas said dully. "Better get going."

Vash clenched his teeth, wiped away the tear tracks left on his cheeks, and straightened his posture. "Yeah….Take care of yourself, Wolfy."

"You too, Spikey."

Slowly, the gunman turned and walked towards the dark corridor ahead.

_You're not really letting him go alone are you?! _Nicholas yelled to himself. _You're going to let him go without at least a kiss goodbye?! As soon as he goes out that door, there's a good chance you won't ever see him again! Do something! _Say _something! _

An amused chuckle broke him from his thoughts. He glared at the source.

"What's so damn funny?" he asked disdainfully.

"You love him, don't you?" Elendira countered smoothly. "How very touching. You never told him that, though. And now, you'll never get the chance."

Wolfwood was about to respond, yet the thunderous sound of a door opening and closing made him pause. His heart felt as if it were falling lifelessly to the pit of his stomach.

_He's gone….He's gone….And I just let him go…._

"I wouldn't stick around for too long, if I were you," Elendira stated matter-of-factly.

"Why's that?"

"You're assignment is now complete. From what I witnessed between you and him and Intel from Zazie, your loyalties have changed….I see that I made the right decision."

"What do you mean? What decision?"

"You might want to return to your orphanage."

Wolfwood went pale. "What are you talking about? What did you do?!"

"Nothing yet. The sooner you get going, though, the better."

Stealing one final glance to the passageway in which Vash had disappeared into, Wolfwood rushed out of the ship.

* * *

The suns seemed harsher than usual, making Vash squint as he stepped outside of the space vessel. He surveyed the surroundings; some large boulders adorned the flat bedrock and a tall rock cliff was to his left. Standing near the base of it was a solitary man. He was wearing all black: a long sleeved shirt and slacks; his white hair gave him a sense of brightness in comparison to his clothing. A dark brown gun holster was strapped to his right thigh, and Vash recognized the black revolver that rested in it.

_This is it….Rem….Please help me survive this._

As the Humanoid Typhoon approached, the man turned around to face him. A deceivingly charming grin graced his countenance as he said warmly, "Welcome home, brother."

Vash felt unbelievably queasy. While he silently stared into Knives' vibrant blue eyes, he saw numerous memories reflected in them. Rem taking them to the recreation room for picnics. The two of them discovering Tesla. Knives' admission to tampering with the ship's navigation. Humans fighting over water, and the sound of cruel laughter at the sight. Knives tackling him to the ground, hitting and kicking him before stripping him naked and thrusting inside of him. Tender kisses being placed on his face and various other places on his body. Knives explaining how there's a better chance of reproducing a plant like them if he mated with him more frequently. Crying and begging for Knives to stop, that it hurt too much and why hadn't the three times before in that same day been enough? Whispering "I love you"'s and "I'm sorry." Gentle hands caressing his skin before he allowed Knives to penetrate him. The sight of blood, furious shouting, the deafening noise of a gun being fired. Sudden agony engulfing him and the shock from seeing his severed arm lying on the ground next to him.

"How did the humans treat you? Did you enjoy your time with them?"

What Vash wanted to say in response to the first question was, "Some better than you," for he knew it would infuriate Knives to hear _any _human was better than him at something, but instead, he settled for, "There were some bad times, but for the most part, it was pretty fun." He smiled, though in his eyes, there was a myriad of emotions that didn't sync with the gesture: rage, compassion, and nostalgia.

"So….You've come to stop me, little brother?"

Steadily removing his silver revolver from its holster, he simply answered, "Yep."

Knives merely watched as Vash aimed the gun at him. Right as the shot was fired, he sprinted towards one of the boulders. Vash raced to another, shooting the other five rounds before diving behind it. Quickly, he reloaded and cautiously peered over the top. A bullet whizzed by, grazing his cheek. He unloaded the entire chamber in to the rock hiding Knives and then ducked down once more to replenish.

For a number of seconds, he stayed still, straining to hear any sign of movement. The sudden sound of footsteps in gravel caused him to run in the opposite direction. The two brothers fired rapidly at one another as they crossed the open area to take up shelter behind new boulders. The adrenaline coursing through Vash was almost unbearable; his heart thumped practically painfully in his chest and he was panting for air. His hands shook as he put new rounds in to the chamber; drops of sweat occasionally hindered his vision as they dripped down his face.

Deciding to make a move, he started low to the ground as he left the safety of his cover. In a matter of seconds, he was fully upright and headed for the boulder he had last seen Knives go behind. His cybernetic arm transformed and he began spraying the hard surface with bullets. When he arrived at the rock, he was dumbfounded; Knives wasn't there.

_Where is he?! I would've heard him! _

He glanced around frantically, guns leveled and ready to fire. All at once he saw something speed past him at an incredible rate before he cried out in pain and fell to his knees. Blood started seeping through his armor; his left thigh had been deeply stabbed.

_How?! How is he faster than me?! I've always been able to spot him whenever he used that ability! _

He rapidly crawled behind the boulder and attempted to calm himself somewhat; there was no time to dwell on the sting of the new wound or how Knives could've possibly enhanced his powers.

He roused at the noise of footsteps and shot blindly. There was a string of shouted curses, and he knew he had been successful in at least getting one round in Knives. A shower of bullets passed over his head, making him flatten against the ground. He crept away from the rock, spotted Knives, and fired. The ammunition hit the older twin in his left side, and he was knocked down. In a flash, the outlaw clad in red was on his feet and headed towards his brother.

Abruptly as if in the blink of an eye, Knives disappeared. Vash skidded to a stop, his eyes frenziedly scouring the area.

_How is that possible?! He's faster than ever; I can't even see him when he moves!_

There was no time to react. A decent amount of sand was suddenly thrown at his face, temporarily blinding him. He spun around in a circle, aiming and shooting and hoping for the best. A clenched fist that felt more like a solid brick collided with the side of his head, making him stumble and fall on to his back; the revolver flew out of his hand on the way down. He groaned as he was kicked with tremendous force, sprawling him on to his stomach. Weakly, he tried to get up but was once more struck by Knives' foot.

_What do I do?! What do I…._

He suddenly rolled on to his back and his right arm began to swell and grow. It was a last resort and the only idea that came to mind.

From somewhere above him, he heard Knives laugh. "I don't think so, Vash."

Vash screamed as the sharp blade protruding from Knives' arm sank in to his right bicep. It stabbed him clean through and even penetrated through the bedrock, pinning him to the ground. His angel arm deactivated and upon noticing him start to lift his bionic one to shoot, Knives ripped it from his body with incomprehensible strength.

"I think you've lost, dear brother," Knives reasoned coldly. He twisted the blade, causing Vash to yell in agony.

Vash watched his twin straddle him and sit on top of him through half-opened eyes. "Just get it over with then if that's what you're gonna do," he forced out through gritted teeth.

"And cut our reunion so short? No, that won't do. We've got much to catch up on! And I want you to experience this wonderful victory over humans with me."

Knives violently hit him several times before smashing the barrel of his gun against his brother's temple, rendering Vash unconscious. Retracting his personal weapon from the outlaw's arm, he leaned down and kissed Vash with intense passion.

"I've missed you," he whispered and got up. Without looking at the person who had come outside, he addressed him. "Take him to get cleaned up."

"Yes, Master," Legato replied.

"Now that he's here, we can set out soon again."

"Of course, Master."

* * *

Riding on the way back to the city, Wolfwood felt like his mind was traveling at the speed his bike was. During the five hour trip, every thought and image was either of Vash or the children at the orphanage. The scenarios he imagined were never good and never ended well. Frequently, he pictured the Humanoid Typhoon crumpled on the ground, motionless and lying in his own blood. A number of bullets had torn up his body, and his countenance was beaten to hell and made him almost unrecognizable. The priest's knuckles turned white as he gripped the handlebars; the nightmarish fantasies wouldn't stop. He thought of the orphanage and saw members of The Eye of Michael spraying the building with their powerful weapons, envisioned the defenseless kids strewn about the wreckage pale and dead.

He knew he had to somehow return to his old home outside of December as fast as possible; it was his duty to protect them.

_It was my duty to protect _him _too._

As he had driven away from the ship, he couldn't help but feel as if he were tossing Vash to a pack of hungry wolves and couldn't bear to stick around and watch as they devoured him.

_You just let him go….You idiot…._

"He'll be fine," he muttered. "He can handle himself….I didn't abandon him!"

He eased the motorcycle to a stop, lowered his head, and grasped a fistful of hair in each of his hands.

"_I didn't abandon him_!" he repeated indignantly as hot, clear droplets fell from his eyes. "There was nothing I could do! That stupid fool wouldn't let me!"

He cried freely, the emotional buildup at last washing over him like a tsunami. The extreme desire to turn around and run to Vash's aid ate away at him, yet he knew it would most likely be in vain. He was now four hours away.

"I'm sorry, Spikey….Why didn't you let me help you, you stubborn…._needle-noggin'?!_ You didn't have to go alone! You _never_ have to be alone ever again! _I love you, you idiot!"_

The words made his eyes widen and his heart seemingly skip a beat or two. Not until he admitted it aloud did the sentiment finally sink in fully.

_I love him….That bitch was right….And I couldn't say it to his face._

It was a long while before he continued onward to the city. By the time he arrived, evening was settling in. The first order of business he planned to take care of concerned the insurance girls. They were still residing at the same inn, and Meryl was instantly irritated at the sight of him when she opened the door to their room.

"Where the hell is he?!" she exclaimed.

Millie piped in before Wolfwood could answer. "Sorry, Mr. Priest. We're just a little worried about losing our jobs if we don't keep an eye on Mr. Vash. It's very important we know where he is."

"Vash the Stampede will no longer be a liability," he said soberly. "You can go back to your headquarters. There's no need to follow him anymore."

The two women detected the underlying grief laced in his voice and his expression. "What do you mean there's no need to follow him?" Meryl inquired hesitantly.

"Just that. In fact, he may no longer exist."

He walked away, paying no attention to them calling to him. As if in a trance, he shuffled along the side of the street. Absentmindedly, he successfully returned to the inn he and Vash had stayed at. He purchased a room and was soon lying on the bed in it. He was tired, though wasn't quite ready to sink in to sleep. After lighting a cigarette and taking a few puffs, he removed the yellow-tinted sunglasses from the inside pocket of his jacket. He gazed at them, turning them over as if noting every detail.

"_Something to remember me by, okay?"_

With a weighty sigh, he whispered, "Damn it, Vash….You _have _to beat him."

* * *

While his brother was being stripped, Knives looked on in horror as more and more of Vash's bare skin was revealed. There was nothing to prepare him for it; the last he had known, his twin was absolute perfection and beauty. No mark had blemished the younger male's body; the two of them were both flawless. The longer Knives's eyes roamed over the immobile being lying on the table – noticing and memorizing every bolt, screw, scrap of metal, chunks of missing and mutilated flesh, and incision scars – the deeper his loathing for humans rooted itself within him. They had had the gall to disfigure something so impeccable….

Knives clenched his fists and snarled in rage. _No one _was worthy of laying a single finger on Vash except for him; _no one _had earned the right to punish his younger brother except for him.

Once the Humanoid Typhoon's wounds were sanitized and bandaged, Knives dressed him in a pair of dark gray, draw-string pants from his own wardrobe; after all these years, they could still share the same clothes. Vash was transported to a small room, not much larger than a jail cell but like one in every other aspect; there was a sink, a toilet, a tiny barred window situated close to the ceiling, and a bed. A single light bulb dimly illuminated the area. After he was laid on top of the old mattress, Knives ordered, "Give us some time alone." His followers nodded in obedience and exited. "Legato," he called.

"Yes, Master," was the reply from the doorway.

"Keep him bound."

"It would be my pleasure," the humble servant stated with a wicked grin and closed the door.

Knives sat beside the unconscious gunman and removed from his pocket what appeared to be a handwritten letter he had found in the long red coat of the Humanoid Typhoon. After reading only a few lines of the note, he wanted to rip the pages to shreds. By the end of it, he wanted to slaughter Wolfwood, force Vash to watch as he did so, and then turn his attention to sadistically disciplining his dear brother. A cruel laugh resonated in the dank room as he imagined the scenario.

"_Knives stop!" Vash screamed through his sobs. "STOP! PLEASE!"_

_He struggled to free himself from the men restraining him, desperate to save his lover from any more attacks. Wolfwood lay soaked in blood, his breathing raspy and shallow. An obscene amount of stab wounds covered his body. The person responsible for them hovered over him with a callous smirk._

"_Knives….Please. I'll do anything. Just don't hurt him anymore. Please," Vash pleaded helplessly. "Please…."_

_With wide, devastated eyes, Vash gazed at Wolfwood, who let his head fall to the side to stare at his partner and offered a feeble smile. _

"_I love y-"_

_A heart-wrenching shriek erupted from Vash's mouth. He went limp, and the men keeping him contained released his arms, letting him collapse to the ground in a pathetic, sobbing heap. _

"_No," he gasped. "Wolfy….NO! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?!" _

_A hand tugged on his hair, forcing him to look up. The sight that met his eyes made him vomit. Held in front of him was Wolfwood's severed head. _

"_Take a good look, dear brother," Knives cooed. "This is because of you. _You _did this."_

_Vash wiped his mouth, closed his eyes, and shook his head. "No….No…." he protested faintly. _

"_It's _your _fault!"_

"_No!"_

"_You just had to fuck him, didn't you? THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?! YOU ARE _MINE!"

_Knives struck his brother with the back of his hand, knocking him completely to the ground. He ripped Vash's clothes off and yanked the man's head up by his spiked locks. _

"_No, please….Please don't," Vash begged pitifully. "Please, Knives."_

_A choked cry sounded from him as Knives forced himself into his body. _

"_Stop….please….Wolfy…."_

Knives sighed and fidgeted a bit from having become immensely aroused. He stuffed the letter back in to his pocket and stared at his brother with severe disapproval.

"Your love of humans goes too far, Vash. You disgust me."

He glided his fingers over the gunman's chest, down his abdomen, and stopped at the sensitive area between his legs. Without any inhibition, Knives began rubbing and kneading the flaccid member; the enjoyment it provided him with made his eyes flutter shut momentarily and a pleased noise to come from his closed mouth. In Vash's unconscious state, the sensation of arousal seemed to reach him, for he emitted a soft moan; it instantly caused Knives to echo it and made his own erection throb more. He hadn't had anyone other than his twin, had refused to contaminate himself with a human's intimacy.

And now, after almost eight decades, Vash had returned to him. This time, he would not be letting his brother go so easily. Knives still considered him an equal because he was a plant and he was his twin, but Vash would be required to submit and serve him; it would be for Vash's own good.

Knives suddenly struck the other male in the groin with a clenched fist, jolting Vash awake with a yelp. The outlaw curled up on his side and gently cupped the area. As if the torment from that wasn't enough, his head started to pulsate excruciatingly; to make it even worse, his leg and arm were in serious pain as well .

"Son of a…." he hissed. At the sound of smug snickering, Vash turned his head slightly in order to be able to glare at his brother.

"It's about time you woke up, don't you think? Feeling better?" Knives questioned with enormous sarcasm.

Vash snarled somewhat, though said nothing.

"I'm completely disappointed in you, Vash."

"So what else has changed in seventy-four years?"

"Apparently not your stupidity! Look at you! _This _is how the humans treat you?! _Destroying _you?! When will you learn they can't be trusted?!"

"They're not all the same!" He sat up, having recovered for the most part from the severe discomfort between his legs. "Not all humans are despicable beings like you think! Many have treated me very well."

Knives smirked. "Yes, I'm aware of that."

An expression of suspicion and confusion clouded Vash's features as he observed Knives stand and walk to the opposite side of the room. It morphed to one of bewilderment as Knives removed from his pocket what the gunman recognized as his letter to Wolfwood. He tried to swallow the embarrassment that came over him.

"Where did you get that?" he asked indifferently, though he knew Knives could see right through his feigned casualness.

"Found it in your coat." The older twin turned the folded pages over and over again with his fingers.

Struggling to get to his feet, Vash inquired quietly, "Did you read it?" yet he was sure of the answer; the unmistakable condemnation and abhorrence in the blue eyes told everything. Limping forward a few steps, Vash growled, "It wasn't addressed to you."

"No, it wasn't, was it? I believe it was meant for a Nicholas D. Wolfwood. Or better yet, someone known by the ridiculous pet name 'Wolfy.' I personally know him as Chapel – member of the Gung Ho Guns."

"I know….I know of his contract with you."

"I don't remember putting in that contract any mention of fucking the target, which was you."

Vash wanted to glance away from the piercing, hateful stare, but refused to show any sign of weakness. Instead, a malicious smile crept on to his face. "Maybe you'll remember for next time."

The outlaw straightened his posture as his brother approached him swiftly. The slap was more powerful than he had anticipated, yet he remained standing. His cheek stung unbearably, an angry red imprint of Knives' hand staining his skin temporarily, and his eyes brimmed with tears. He kept his head turned away even as Knives started to speak.

"You are a plant. You're a superior being. Don't go giving away what no human has the right to have."

Slowly, Vash met his twin's gaze. "Because only you deserve it, right?" he inquired disdainfully.

"I will not allow my brother to be a preacher's whore!"

The blow knocked Vash to the side and on to the floor. He let out a small groan, detesting the taste of blood that leaked from his nose and lip. There was no time to recover as Knives continued to pummel him with his fists, the hits raining down everywhere on him.

After a minute or so, Knives finished by kicking his twin in the stomach twice. Vash stayed where he was, in a fetal position on the cold floor. Brilliant bruises were already starting to show on his skin; blood trickled down his countenance from his hair line, nostrils, and mouth. The bandages around his arm and leg were soaked through with fresh blood as well. Tiny noises of anguish mixed together with his uneven breaths.

"Do you really think he even loves you in return, little brother?" Knives mocked. "Even if he said he did, humans are fickle. It won't be long until he finds some other _human _that catches his fancy and tosses you away like garbage."

"No," Vash replied in almost a whisper.

"What did you say?"

"He's not like that. He wouldn't do that."

A shaky whimper came from Vash as he was hoisted up by his hair. He grimaced and hurriedly tried to stand. Once he was on his feet, the hand that had grabbed hold of his spiked locks moved to close around his neck. Displaying a great deal of strength, Knives lifted Vash entirely off the ground, eliciting choked noises and gasps from the gunman. If he had had his other arm, Vash knew there was a good chance he would've been able to free himself from Knives' iron grasp. He attempted to pry his brother's fingers from his throat, but it was of no use.

"You just don't get it, do you, Vash? Having simply observed humans from a distance, I seem to know more about them than you do. All those years you spent living among them – wasted. Humans betray humans. They have no interest in helping another unless it benefits them. It's in their nature to steal, fight, and kill for what they want. And love…." Knives chortled contemptuously. "It's nothing but a fleeting emotion. But you and me, us plants, we're nothing like them. You want a world free of all that, don't you? That's what you've wanted all along, isn't it? Where everyone treats everyone with kindness? I will give you that world; it's been my intent ever since we landed on this planet. In order to do that, the humans must be terminated."

The moment he was finished speaking, he released his twin, who fell to the floor limply. Vash coughed and wheezed, lightly rubbing the area Knives had clutched. It was a few minutes before he felt strong enough to stand up and gaze at his brother.

Without any sort of explanation, Vash began to laugh bitterly.

"What's so damn funny?" Knives asked, irritated.

"It's just…." The outlaw calmed himself and was able to state steadily, "He was more like a brother to me than you ever were." The dilated, infuriated eyes didn't stop him from continuing. "And he fucked me better than you ever could."

For several seconds, Vash felt a tinge of victory; it appeared that he had stunned his twin beyond words and actions. The other man merely stared at him, mouth agape, and immensely livid.

All at once, Vash was hurled against the wall with enough force to cause the hard surface to crack. The collision almost reduced him to unconsciousness. He yelped as he was dragged by his hair to the bed. Forcibly, he was lifted to his feet only to be shoved on to the mattress. His head was cloudy and aching terribly, yet he was able to comprehend what was about to occur. He began kicking and pushing Knives away as his brother climbed atop him, but his efforts were in vain. The older twin smacked him, which made him cease his attempts.

"Why don't we see who's better then, hm?!" Knives bellowed madly.

He untied and pulled off the gunman's only piece of clothing, spread the male's legs apart, and situated himself between them. After he lowered his black slacks to free his hard member, he wet his erection with lubricant from a small bottle he had stowed in one of his pockets. Vash tried crawling backward, out from under his brother, though was quickly pinned down to the bed. Defiantly, he stared up at his twin; the arrogant grin Knives wore enraged him to the point where he abruptly launched a wad of spit and blood at the other man's face.

_He's got some fight in him, _Knives thought, somewhat annoyed, yet found it arousing at the same time. _He's grown bolder since the last time. _

Fiercely, Knives slapped his brother and sheathed his cock inside of Vash in one thrust. Vash wailed in pain, feeling as if Knives tore his muscles from the brutal penetration. There was no grace period to let him acclimate, nor did the older twin proceed leisurely like Wolfwood had. Over and over again, Knives withdrew from his body until only the head of his erection remained within him before he shoved himself completely into the outlaw once more. Each propulsion elicited a muffled whimper, for Vash bit his lip and tried to stay as quiet as possible; he didn't want Knives to have the satisfaction of hearing any of his vocals.

"Is this better?!" Knives taunted, pounding in to him savagely.

Vash turned his head away and closed his eyes; a few clear droplets spilled from the corners of them. He panted with his brother, clawed at the single sheet covering the mattress.

_Wolfy….I really messed up…. _

Vash made a noise of protest as Knives gripped his chin, forced him to look at him, and kissed him. Knives' lips attacked his vehemently; he squealed in surprise as the older twin's tongue intruded in to his mouth and danced with his own.

…_.I wish you were here….I'm sorry…._

Knives' pace became faster, causing Vash to inwardly breathe a sigh of relief from knowing it would be over shortly. The moans of pleasure Knives made were lost within the gunman's mouth as he unrelentingly kissed his unwilling partner.

It was a number of minutes later when Knives finally ejaculated, buried inside of his brother. Vash hissed and grunted from the countless slow, powerful thrusts Knives continued to do. He yearned to shove the other male off of him, especially now that Knives had spilled himself in him, but decided against it. What was the point of fighting anymore? In the shape he was currently in, he knew it wasn't worth garnering any new wounds or bruises.

At last, Vash's tense body relaxed as his assaulter pulled out and got up. His chest heaved as he breathed weightily; sweat blanketed his skin. He swallowed hard and gazed at the ceiling. There was no reaction from him as gentle fingertips ghosted over his cheek and lips. Knives caressed him tenderly for a short period before he walked away.

"Welcome home, dear brother," Knives stated tartly and exited the room.

Empty, lifeless green eyes were overcome with tears. Curling up on his left side, Vash hugged his knees to his chest and began to weep softly.

"I'm sorry, Wolfy," he choked out in a whisper. "Rem….I let you down….I let you all down….Everyone…." He buried his face and embraced himself more tightly. "I'm sorry."


	6. Brotherly Love

Beams of sunlight poured in through the window, warming the person who was starting to wake up. The last thing he had known, it had been night; he didn't feel like he had gotten any sleep.

Wolfwood slid his hand to the side, hoping to feel his friend lying next to him, but there was no one. The same sentiment resonated within him as he showered; he half-expected the lively blonde to pull back the curtain, happily chirp "Morning, Wolfy! Mind if I join you?", and step in to the tub to bathe with him.

_It's not a dream. He's really gone. _

After he got dressed, ate breakfast, and purchased some items for the long ride ahead of him, he headed to his motorcycle to load up. Something in the side car made him stare quizzically at it for a moment before the realization of what it was sank in and his heart fell.

It was Vash the Stampede's duffle bag. Apart from what Vash had been wearing, it contained everything the outlaw owned. Wolfwood ran his fingers over the material for a minute, thinking of the infamous gunman's face and hearing his laugh. His lips quirked upward as memories filtered through his mind in fragments.

"I hope you won, Spikey," he mumbled.

It wasn't long before he tore out of town, preparing for his own battle awaiting him.

* * *

It had been a restless night for Vash. There had been no sleep, only thoughts and memories incessantly playing in his head that kept him awake. He had studied his enclosure thoroughly, looking for any way out and found nothing.

Currently, he was seated cross-legged on the bed, elbow on his knee, and his face buried in his hand. He didn't stir upon hearing the door open, nor did he steal a glance to see who it was. The person sat beside him and remained silent, and Vash could hear the quiet noise of metal clinking against metal. Still displaying no sign of interest, he continued to keep his gaze fixated on the floor. It wasn't until he felt something cold and somewhat heavy snake around his neck and clasp around it that he showed signs of life. He touched the metal collar, tried pulling it off, and glared angrily at his brother.

"What is this?" he asked irritably.

"A way to keep track of you whenever I let you out."

Vash saw the metal chain in Knives' hand and his eyes followed the length of it to discover it was attached to his new accessory. "A leash? You really think this is necessary?" He felt as if he were being treated like a wild animal; it was a sentiment he had experienced before among humans whenever they figured out who he was, yet this was taking it too far.

"Think of it as a precaution. Now come on. There are some things I'd like to show you."

Even though Vash got up and started limping behind his twin, Knives tugged on the chain and grinned in amusement from Vash losing his balance and almost falling face-first to the floor. The older brother led him through various rooms and hallways; as they walked down one of the corridors, numerous doors lined both sides. Standing in the entry ways were men who bowed as Knives passed.

"I thought you didn't trust humans," Vash stated blankly, aware that the people were staring at him with disdain and some had expressions of slight repulsion from the sight of his bare torso.

"I don't. But these men have at least demonstrated their value in helping me for the cause; in exchange for sparing their lives, they've sworn allegiance to me."

"Doesn't that go against what you want? Exterminating humans?"

"I didn't say I'd spare their lives forever."

They at last came to a pair of large metal doors. Whatever was behind them, Vash had a hunch it was important. He was proven right as Knives took him inside. It was a vast, relatively empty space; within it was a giant light bulb.

"The plant of Augusta," Knives announced proudly. "It will be moved and kept on our base ship, along with all the others we will eventually gather."

Not until Vash saw the plant did the gravity of Knives' actions sink in. There was now a city filled with helpless, anxious, frightened people left wondering what to do, where to go. It tore Vash's heart. "Knives…." He wasn't sure what to say. He was shocked his brother had actually done it. They were no longer cruel ideas festering in Knives' head; he had finally acted on them and had been successful.

"Impressive, isn't it? We'll be taking off tomorrow for May City."

"Taking off?"

"You're no longer on the vessel you came to meet me at; that is where we're storing the plants. I call this one the Ark; it's been integral in the operation."

Vash at last turned his focus from the plant to his brother. "You can't do this….You have to stop! People will suffer!"

"And they should! Do you forget what they did to one of our own?!"

"I will never, _never _forget….But we can forgive them and try to live in peace with them! The ticket to the future is always blank! Just give them a chance! Please!"

"Don't you get it?! If they find out what you are, they will exploit you and eventually destroy you, just like they did to her! I'm doing this for _us!"_

Vash blinked several times before shaking his head slowly. "I don't want this," he spoke quietly.

"You may not want it, but it's what is needed for us to survive."

"That's not true. It doesn't have to be like this. They are _not _our enemies!"

Knives grabbed hold of his twin's upper arms; the firm grip made Vash wince. "Why do you continue to sympathize with them?! _Why do you fight to protect them?! _They've done nothing but hunt you and harm you!_"_

In a low, even tone Vash stated bluntly, "You know why."

Knives dug his fingernails in to the other male's skin, causing the outlaw to let out a soft whine. "You still live by her ridiculous teachings? She sullied your mind with her pathetic ramblings. I've got my work cut out for me to make you see things _my _way."

Vash didn't reply, and after a brief period of staring at one another irately, Knives released his brother. He started towards a door on the other side of the area; Vash followed obediently behind him. It led to another expansive room, however this one wasn't empty. Lining the walls were dozens upon dozens of glass capsules. Vash couldn't discern what was in them, yet he knew the contents.

"Say hello to your sisters," Knives confirmed, strolling to the center of the area.

The gunman's eyes were wide and alight with awe as he leisurely glanced around.

"There's more, just not here. These ones are helping by powering the Ark."

"Isn't that like the humans? Using them for your own gain?"

Knives chuckled contemptuously. "Hardly. They're aiding me in saving the others by granting me the use of this craft. Without them, it would be much more difficult to collect the others."

Vash ventured to one of the pods and peered in somewhat apprehensively. He could sense the energy radiating from the ethereal being; it was almost too much to bear. All at once, he cringed as if in pain due to the crushing feeling of intense fury emanating from the plant contained within the capsule.

_So much anger, _he thought sorrowfully. _Why? _He placed his hand on the glass and closed his eyes. _"There's no need to be so riled up. It's okay," _he communicated telepathically.

The exquisite being opened her eyes and gazed at Vash, prompting him to do the same. He offered a gentle smile, hoping it would soothe her.

"_It's okay. There's nothing to fear, no need to be upset."_

The plant raised her hand and pressed it against the blonde's.

"_Hello there." _

Just as he started to feel the plant's rage subside, the emotion abruptly ignited once more, leaving Vash to frenziedly stare at the agitated being.

"_What's wrong?!"_

He jumped in surprise at Knives resting a hand on his shoulder.

"What's wrong? Why is she like this?" he inquired worriedly.

"Maybe she's aware of how the humans would treat her, how they're treating and using the others right now."

Green eyes darted back and forth between Knives' cold expression and the glowering plant. He suddenly made the connection. "_You _did this. You fed them lies, turned them against humans for your selfish plans!"

"I explained to them the truth. As long as they're alive, they will _never _be a slave to humans; they'll decimate them before that happens."

"Knives….Please. You have to end this. I'm begging you."

The older twin brushed his fingertips along his brother's cheek. "Sorry, Vash," he insincerely apologized with a smirk. "You've lost, which means humanity has lost."

"Please, I'll do anything. I'll remain with you and do whatever you want me to, just don't hurt any more people."

"Always the martyr, willing to sacrifice yourself for those who don't deserve it. Such a waste."

Knives roughly drug his brother out of the room by his leash and escorted him to yet another area. This one was quite small in contrast to the other two spaces. As they crossed through to the opposite wall, Vash noted a long grate that covered what looked like a containment cell lengthy and deep enough to contain a person lying down.

"The hole," Knives said, noticing the blonde staring at it. "Behave yourself and you might not end up in it."

Once they reached the wall, Vash gave no fight as Knives lifted his arm and locked a metal cuff around his wrist. There wasn't much slack in the chain that hung from the ceiling; there'd be no sitting, let alone kneeling, or bending his arm.

"Comfortable?"

The outlaw smiled bitterly. "Oh yeah, never felt better," he answered cheerfully, yet his green eyes were blazing with resentment. "I _am_ kinda hungry though. Any chance I could get somethin' to eat?"

His brother regarded him coolly and grinned. "Let me see what I've got for you."

"Do you take requests?"

"Sorry, I don't."

The expression on Vash's countenance morphed to one of feigned disappointment. "Aw, really?"

The two of them held eye contact, sizing one another up and waiting for the other to back down. After a minute or so, Knives walked away without a word; it didn't make Vash feel victorious, however. Bowing his head, he sighed and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"What am I gonna do?" he muttered aloud. "There has to be _something_, _some _way….If only you were here, Wolfwood….I really hope you're okay." He remembered how the priest had assured him he'd be there after it was over; Knives had made no mention of Wolfwood being taken prisoner and judging by the reaction he had had from reading the letter, Vash was certain his twin would've told him what became of the preacher if anything had happened. Instead of dwelling on his comrade's possible death, he chose to believe the man had gotten away safely.

Breathing in deeply, he rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.

"So…." he began to sing softly, "Hitotsu-me no yoru ni,

Izuko kara koishi ga sekai ni ochiru.

So...futatsu-me no yoru ni,

Koishi no ko ga te wo tori warutsu wo kaku.

Sound life."

His eyes flew open at his brother singing the last two words with him.

With an optimistic smile and jade eyes wide with joy, he said happily, "You remember it."

As Knives approached, Vash could barely discern the hint of a genuine smile on his countenance. It made the Humanoid Typhoon's heart beat faster, and he felt flutters in his stomach. Maybe his twin wasn't wholly gone after all.

"How could I forget it? She sang it almost every day," Knives stated plainly, setting the plate and cup he had brought down on the floor.

Giving a light laugh, Vash replied, "Yeah, she did, didn't she?"

"I remember she used to sing it to you sometimes to help you go to sleep. And whenever you woke up from a nightmare, I'd sing it to you to help calm you down."

"It still helps me." There was a pause before Vash prodded, "Do you ever think about that time? You, me, Rem, the crew….I miss it."

"Yes, I think about it sometimes….Mostly, I think about you."

"You do?"

"I'd wonder where you were, if you were safe." Knives put his hands on the other man's hips and stepped closer. "I really missed you, Vash."

"I missed you too."

Knives enveloped the blonde in his arms and held him comfortingly. Vash closed his eyes, nuzzled his face against his brother's neck, and yearned to have his wrist free from its restraints in order to hug his twin.

"I love you," Knives whispered.

A tear raced down the gunman's cheek as he confessed, "I love you too."

After a lengthy moment, Knives pulled away, picked up the plate, and held one of the pieces of buttered toast in front of Vash's mouth. Accepting the offer, Vash took a bite and made no complaints about being fed by his brother. When he finished the two slices, Knives put the rim of the cup against the blonde's lips and waited patiently for him to drink almost half of the water in the glass.

"Thanks," Vash said gratefully. "I really needed that. But for the next time, can you make it a box of donuts?"

Knives' usually stony expression softened, and Vash's heart swelled excitedly from the feeling of having his brother again, not the calloused person the blue-eyed man had become. "I'll see what I can do."

"So….how long are you planning on keeping me tied up like this?"

The sudden closeness of his twin and the hint of sadness in the man's eyes caused Vash to flatten himself against the wall. He kept his gaze locked with Knives', refusing to glance away even as the older twin rested one hand on his cheek and the other on his lower backside.

"Knives….It's not too late," he murmured. "You can end this right now. We can start over. You and me, like we always said." His eyelids fluttered shut from the pleasant sensation of Knives' face rubbing against his neck, breathing in his scent.

"There's no starting over, Vash. No going back."

"I can't accept that. The future is blank; you can write a new one."

"Still an optimist, huh? Even after everything that's happened to you?"

"It's in my nature. What else can I do except hope that the next day is better than the previous? I don't want to be a hostage to grief and anger."

Vash turned his head slightly, prompting Knives to stare at him directly. A kind smile brightened his countenance before Knives started to kiss him longingly. The hands caressing his torso and touching his cheek were so amazingly gentle in comparison to the day before, Vash wasn't sure how to handle it; his emotions were firing in various directions. There was no denying the delight he had for gaining positive attention from his brother – and the fact that it felt like Knives was his former self before everything had turned sour. As they continued to kiss one another voraciously, hands moving over his skin as if re-discovering his body, Vash loved having his twin like this again – like the old times when it was only the two of them.

The gunman tilted his head back and inhaled sharply at the fingers sliding down behind the waistband of his clothing and stroking his cock. Knives wasted no time in attacking Vash's exposed neck with his lips and tongue. A dark spot remained on the blonde's throat after a minute of Knives sucking on it.

"Feeling good?" Knives breathed in his brother's ear.

Vash's eyes were shut tightly, his knees weak from the ecstasy caused by the other male's fingers massaging his erection. "Yeah," he forced out. When he felt the drawstring being undone on his pants and before Knives could remove the garment, he stepped to the side and shook his head. "No, don't."

Knives licked upward from his twin's neck until he reached his ear. "Why not?"

"I just….don't want to, okay?"

"I promise I'll be gentler this time. I'm sorry for yesterday." Noticing the uncertainty in the green eyes, he urged tenderly, "Come on, Vash."

"No….just don't. Please."

"I can feel you want it, though." He gave the man's hard member a light squeeze to emphasize his statement.

Vash blushed and glanced downward at the ground.

"Please let me."

It was a number of seconds later when the blonde acquiesced. "Okay."

The younger plant kept his focus on the floor as the blue-eyed male stripped them both and slicked his cock with lube. Vash wrapped his legs around Knives' waist and waited. His muscles were still rather sore from how rough he had been penetrated and abused the previous day, making him concerned about how badly it would hurt this time. It was a consoling surprise when he felt Knives enter him incredibly slowly; there was discomfort, but he found himself suddenly not caring. He and Knives were finally one; in his mind, they were at last sharing their love for each other like they used to so many years ago.

_I didn't think I'd ever feel this way again with him, _Vash thought contently. _I really missed him. Maybe there's still a chance, still hope he can change._

He moaned and a number of tears leaked from his eyes at the first upward thrust Knives made. His gaze locked with his brother's; the affection written in the azure eyes made him quiver, and he leaned forward to kiss him. Uncontrollable whimpers sounded from him as Knives propelled himself in and out of his body leisurely. A hand inched along his arm up towards his own; once it reached his, he laced his fingers with his twin's and clutched tightly.

"_Knives," _Vash expressed mentally. _"I love you."_

The older twin flicked his tongue against the other male's lips. _"I love you too. I won't let you go again."_

They broke away from one another's mouths, breathing heavily and hearts racing. All at once, Vash cried out loudly in indescribable rapture; he shook and bit his twin's shoulder to smother his boisterous moaning from Knives hitting his prostate. It was nothing like he had ever experienced. He felt as if he couldn't handle it, the extremely pleasurable stimulation, but pined for it nonetheless. There was a sense that he was losing control of his body, despite the fact that he could do nothing more than tighten his legs around his brother. He wildly moaned with every thrust, drowning out the animalistic noises his twin made.

"_I want you to be mine….Let me make you mine," _Knives said and after another minute or so, he went rigid as he came.

Vash rested his head on the other man's shoulder, shuddering at the sensation of the warm fluid filling him. For a long while, they stayed the way they were, waiting to drift down from the blissful high they were on. As Vash recovered, the pain he had had before in his arm returned, along with the feeling of it being cold and tingly.

"Can you take this thing off me?" he asked quietly, voice trembling slightly. He wished to go lie down in bed and continue being held close by his brother; the physical act made him feel utterly drained.

Without a word, Knives kissed him, withdrew from his body, unhooked the scarred legs from around his waist and helped him regain his footing to stand, then dressed him. After tying the drawstring of the blonde's pants, Knives put on his own clothes and started towards the door.

"Knives? Where you going?"

There was no answer other than the sound of the entrance closing. Vash's mouth remained agape from being absolutely stunned, his eyes brimming with sincere hurt. He suddenly felt unbelievably dirty at the sense of being used and from feeling his brother's seed trickling out of him and down the back of his leg.

With his head lowered in shame, he attempted to lose himself in sleep.

* * *

"Bartender, another please."

"You sure are drinking an awful lot for it being only mid-afternoon."

Wolfwood put out his cigarette in the nearby ashtray and shrugged. "What difference does it make what time of day it is? Any time's a good time to drink, if you ask me."

"Fair enough."

The bartender poured him another shot of vodka. Wolfwood took it in his hand, though didn't drink it right away. He stared vacantly ahead of him, listening and picking up on people's conversations around him. One in particular suddenly caught his attention.

"It's been oddly quiet don't you think, Ned? No sightings or nothin' of the Humanoid Typhoon."

"I hear ya. You think someone finally caught him? Someone actually caught Vash the Stampede?"

"Nah, we would've heard; they'd announce if the bounty had been claimed. It's just weird."

"Think he's dead?"

"Don't know, but I do know one thing for sure: it'd do us all a lot of good if he was."

"If you ask me, death is too kind for him. After all he's done, he deserves to suffer. I hope whoever catches him tortures the hell out of him; at least then he can finally know pain like he's caused all of us."

Wolfwood's grip on the shot glass had gotten so strong, the cup abruptly shattered in his hand. Several people turned to look at him, causing him to grin and laugh innocently.

"Oops," he said meekly. "My apologies."

"You okay, mister?" the bartender inquired, obviously shocked at the fact that this priest just crushed a glass with his bare hand.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just lost a close friend recently is all."

"I'm sorry to hear that. My condolences, Father."

"Thank you."

"Listen, don't worry about paying. It's on the house."

"That's very kind of you. I appreciate it."

"Sure thing."

The preacher's ears focused on the two men talking behind him once more.

"Can you believe that news out of Augusta?"

"About their plant being taken? Just like Gasback did back in Macca City last year. Nobody's been able to locate it yet."

"They say some gigantic sort of aircraft came and a group of about thirty men tore through town killin' anyone that got in the way and razing it to the ground."

"Maybe Vash the Stampede was the mastermind behind it. Now he's layin' low until things settle down."

"Could be."

It took all of Wolfwood's restraint to keep himself from slamming his fist down on the men's table and telling them Vash would never do anything to hurt anyone. And that at this very moment, the Humanoid Typhoon everyone so loathed was either still fighting to save them all or had died trying.

Thanking the bartender again for the free drinks, Wolfwood exited the saloon and started off on his motorcycle; he hoped to be in the next town over by nightfall.

* * *

"_Hey, Vash. What's wrong? Why are you crying?"_

_Knives crawled under the blanket to lie next to his brother in bed and stroked the blonde locks in a comforting gesture._

"_I'm scared," Vash voiced in almost a whisper._

"_Why?"_

"_What if the humans don't accept us? What if they think we're just freaks of nature?"_

"_Come on, Vash. You can't think like that. I'm sure we'll fit right in."_

"_You think so?"_

"_Sure, why not? And if for some reason they don't like us, we still have each other, okay?"_

"_Okay."_

_Knives hugged him and rubbed his back affectionately. "We'll always have each other."_

"_Promise?"_

"_Promise."_

A set of voices sounded from off in the distance, rousing Vash from his dream. Everything appeared foggy, blurred together, and the words the people were exchanging were faint and almost distorted. He was breathing raggedly, covered in sweat, and his arm had gone numb; at the moment his wrist was enduring all of his weight, for his legs had buckled under him.

He had been confined to the one spot for almost ten hours.

The conversation seemed to be between Knives and someone else, though he couldn't be sure; his head was spinning, he couldn't comprehend what was being said.

"I want him to do it at least once. If not for May, then for the next one."

"He's fired it two times before, correct?"

"Yes. The sign of his depletion is at last revealing itself. Will you be able to determine how much he has left?"

"Should be able to. Just bring him in and we can have a look."

Even though he lifted his head to see who was coming towards him, his vision was terribly impaired for the time being; he had no idea who the person was, but found himself entirely grateful for the stranger as the metal cuff was unlocked from around his wrist. The person supported him while his arm was very slowly lowered. Little by little, he could feel the blood begin to circulate in his limb again.

It was a couple of minutes before his arm hung at his side once more; he tried to thank his rescuer, but only incoherent mumbles escaped from his throat. He put up no fight as he was swept in to the person's arms and carried out of the room. Inhaling deeply, he recognized his brother's scent.

"_Knives?" _

"_What is it, dear brother?"_

"_I'm so exhausted. And hungry."_

"_You'll be able to rest comfortably soon."_

"_I don't feel good."_

"_You'll be fine."_

Vash gasped at how cold the metal table felt against his naked torso. Leather straps buckled over his knees and his abdomen. The harsh, bright lights made him squint and his eyes water. As his arm was pulled to stretch out beside him on another hard surface, he silently asked, _"Knives, what's going on?" _His tone conveyed a hint of panic.

"_Everything is alright. Just stay still and it'll be okay."_

The younger plant winced and softly whimpered as various needles punctured through the skin of his arm in a number of spots. He grew restless and frightened; his legs worked to free themselves from the restraints.

"No," he was able to say. "No. Don't. Stop."

"Give him a sedative."

A large needle suddenly sank in to the side of his neck, causing him to hiss in pain. It was almost instantaneous, the effects of whatever had been pumped in to him. He went limp, the only movement being his head consistently turning from left to right; unintelligible noises came from his slightly opened mouth.

"Well, doctor? What can you tell?"

"From what the probes are reading, he's still got quite an amount of energy left. If he had used his abilities to heal his body, he would be over half depleted by now."

"How many more times can he use the weapon?"

"I would say two, three at the most. The next time his arm activates, his hair should start darkening more rapidly."

"Would I be able to absorb him?"

"I think you'd be overwhelmed. Even after all the other plants you've already absorbed, they still aren't as powerful as the energy he possesses."

Knives stared at his twin, who continued to mutter to himself in his hazy, drugged state. "What if we tried impregnation again? Now that we have him, we can use his sperm this time to inject in to one of them."

"You can try."

Knives pondered the idea for a few minutes, regarding his brother intently. He had attempted once before with his own in hopes of reproducing another plant with free-will, yet had been met with no success; perhaps Vash contained something he didn't.

"I'll send someone to come get a cup of it," he decided. He moved to stand beside the gunman and traced his thumb along his twin's cheek. _"Vash."_

"_..."_

"_Vash."_

The blonde was too dazed to answer. He had no clue what was happening around him, but a number of minutes later, he _did _register that someone was fondling him in order to get him aroused. Indiscernible objections sounded from him, and he tried to get away from the hand pleasuring him, but the straps kept him pinned and his whole being felt as if it weighed as much as the moon. Humiliation settled in as his body reacted positively to whoever was touching him. There was nothing he could do to withhold what the person wanted.

Not until he finally ejaculated did he slip into unconsciousness due to the heavy sedative and extreme fatigue.

* * *

It was around midnight when Wolfwood arrived at the next city; there were still several separating him from December, yet by his estimation, he would be there within five days.

_I just hope I'm not too late for whatever they have planned._

Currently, he was opening the Humanoid Typhoon's duffle bag to sort through the man's belongings. There were a few pairs of boxers and pants, a pair of jeans, socks, a couple of shirts and tank tops, a spare set of full body armor, a worn and tattered brown thin blanket that seemed rather out of place to have, and some toiletries. Nothing special or spectacular, though it was to be expected; the less weight to carry, the easier it was to travel.

Near the bottom of the bag, he felt an object that wasn't clothing. Frowning, he removed the item and grinned fondly upon discovering what it was: a cheap picture frame that contained a photo of Meryl, Millie, himself, and Vash.

"Well I'll be damned," he muttered.

He remembered the day it was taken. The four of them had gone to a local festival with various carnival games and the like. Millie had been the one to spot the photographer and insisted they get their picture taken. Meryl and himself were less than thrilled at the idea, but Vash and Millie wouldn't take "no" for an answer. Vash had his arm slung across Wolfwood's shoulders, and Millie had hers around the preacher and Meryl.

Wolfwood chuckled at the fact he and Meryl shared similar expressions of annoyance, while the other two had the biggest smiles on their faces. He had no idea Vash had purchased a print of the photo, let alone cherished it enough to carry it with him all of these many months later. Absentmindedly, his fingertips gently glided against the glass over Vash's figure.

He didn't realize he was crying until a tear splashed on to the frame.

Hurriedly, he wiped his eyes and set the picture on the table along with the Humanoid Typhoon's sunglasses. He packed everything away except for one of the man's shirts. He held it to his face and breathed in; Vash's scent still lingered on the fabric, arousing him and saddening him at the same time.

"Lord," he began quietly. "I've never asked for much. I have my sins; I've made mistakes. But if you could do something for me….Please protect him. Give him your strength. And if he's already passed….I ask that I'll be able to find his body and give him a proper burial….Amen."

When he fell asleep, the shirt was lying beside him with his hand weakly clutching it lovingly.

* * *

"Rem….Rem….Wolfy…."

His eyelids felt heavy as he awoke, eagerly anticipating Wolfwood or Rem to be beside him. There was nothing but a wall.

"Where am I? Was it all a dream?"

Vash rolled on to his back, sighed, and reached upward toward the ceiling.

"You both were so close….I don't want to be alone." He blinked a number of times, letting tears trickle out from the corners of his eyes. "What should I do? Please tell me. I don't know anymore." Retracting his hand from the air above him, he closed his eyes and rested his arm across his chest as if to hug himself. "I feel so useless….so weak….I let everyone down. I failed."

Slowly, he moved to lie on his side; the thin ray of sunshine that came through the window on the opposite side of the room illuminated the area enough for him to discern where he was. He had been returned to the cell he had woken up in after his fight with Knives.

_This isn't a dream. He has me._

He bent his knees and held them to his chest, shaking as he started to cry harder.

"Help me….help me see a way out. Or a way to stop him. There has to be something I can do….I wish you were here….both of you…."

The sound of the door being unlocked made him hastily wipe the tears from his face and sit up. A puzzled expression swept over his features as a man he had never seen before entered. He was curious to know who this person was, but upon spotting what the stranger had brought, his attention was instantly focused on it instead: a plate with a sandwich on it. Not until he saw the food did he realize how starved he felt. The moment the dish was placed in front of him, he said a quick "thank you" and commenced devouring the salmon sandwich in less than a minute. Once it was gone, he immediately wanted more; it hadn't been enough to get rid of the empty feeling in his stomach.

"Why couldn't there be more?" he whined. "I'm so hungry. My poor belly is really aching! Surely they could give me another one."

He groaned and rubbed his abdomen for a minute or so then got to his feet. After using the facilities and doing his best to wash his one hand, he splashed some water onto his face a couple of times and gripped the side of the sink.

"Damn it," he sighed dejectedly. "Why couldn't I beat him? How was he able to move that fast? There's only been one other person who moved so fast I couldn't see them. He didn't have the Demon's Eye, so how? _How?" _

The door opened again, prompting him to turn around to see his brother.

"Finally awake?" Knives asked.

"What happened?"

"Don't worry about it. Nothing of importance to you."

Vash made no effort to keep Knives from putting the metal collar on him and it wasn't until the older twin yanked on the chain did he begin to follow behind him.

"Where are we going?" he inquired in a faked upbeat tone.

"We've arrived in May City."

Vash grew pale from the meaning behind the statement. He rushed to Knives' side and grabbed his arm. "Don't do this."

Knives forcibly removed the gunman's hand and proceeded onward.

"Please. Just wait!"

Vash grew nervous as they came to stand in front of thirty-three men from what he could count. Each had a gun, a blade, or both.

"Knives," he began, his voice quaking. "If you have to go through with this, then take the plant. But nobody has to die."

His twin snickered. "Always thinking of their well-being. Pathetic."

All at once, the floor they stood on started to move downward. It wasn't long until they were outside of the Ark, beneath it. Vash looked around frantically as they got closer to the ground; he could see the scared and astonished expressions on the townspeople's faces. He was so preoccupied with taking in his surroundings, he hadn't noticed that Knives had tied his leash around one of the four thick bars lowering the platform.

When they landed, Vash looked to his brother, who merely turned to him and grinned devilishly.

"Knives…." the younger twin whispered.

"Take it."

With collective wild shouting, the group of men took off, shooting their guns randomly at people and buildings. Vash started to run towards the crowd, but his head abruptly snapped back from the chain having reached its length. He fell, which drew laughter from Knives.

"Why don't you stay here and watch?"

Vash quickly got to his feet and began tugging on the leash, trying to break it free from the collar. "I can't just do nothing!" he spoke through clenched teeth.

"Good luck with that."

"Knives! WAIT!"

The blonde watched his brother enter the pandemonium and gasped in complete shock from Knives slicing someone in half at the waist with the large blade formed from his arm. His eyes were dazzled with horror; those who returned fire were either shot or slashed. Others ran for safety in the nearest building. Hysterically, Vash struggled to liberate himself, desperate to save _any_one, even if it was just a single person.

"I have….to do…._something!_" he yelled with each pull he made.

He glanced at the crowd again, and his eyes grew wide; at the center of the city, three iles away, two children were cowering on the ground with Knives staring down at them.

"No," he breathed. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and when he re-opened them, they were glowing blue and conveyed sheer anger. "_NO!_" he roared, and with one last incredibly strong jerk, the link connecting the metal chain to his collar broke open. He tumbled backward and in a flash, he was sprinting in the direction of his twin. Even though he was moving at his inconceivable speed, he feared he wouldn't make it in time; Knives was already raising his blade.

_Just a little farther. Don't let me be too late._

Everything felt as if it were happening in slow-motion, despite him traveling faster than people could see. Knives commenced lowering his weapon to cut through the two children; Vash lunged and covered them with his body, taking the blow himself. He wailed in agony as the sharp blade carved a deep gash from his left shoulder down the entire length of his back.

Knowing there was no time to spare, he ushered the kids out from under him and faintly ordered, "Go! Hurry!"

"Vash?! Is that you?!" one of them asked, recognizing him from his previous visit to the city and remembering play-fighting with him.

"_Go!"_

The two seemed hesitant to leave him, but they ran away to find shelter. Through gritted teeth, Vash shouted in pain from Knives stomping on his fresh wound.

"How did you break free?!" Knives bellowed furiously. "You worthless fool!" Powerfully, he kicked the gunman onto his back. "I hope this was worth it because I will make you pay for it!"

All of a sudden, Vash felt his body grow stiff before he was getting up without his control. His muscles were moving on their own accord; when he wanted to do an action, they wouldn't cooperate. He gazed anxiously at his brother and was surprised to see another man standing beside him.

"What's happening?" the blonde asked frightfully. "Why can't I move?"

"This is Legato," Knives introduced calmly. "He has the ability to make you do whatever he desires; he can bend you in positions that would break your bones and sever your joints." He placed his black revolver in to his twin's hand. "One in each foot."

"My pleasure, Master," Legato replied with a malicious grin.

No matter how hard he tried to resist, Vash's thumb cocked the hammer, aimed the gun downward, and pulled the trigger. Behind his closed lips, he yelled from the piercing anguish that engulfed his right foot. Another bullet was shot in to his left. The hot tears on his flushed cheeks blended in with the sweat pouring down his face.

"Walk him back to the ship."

"Yes, Master."

Vash grimaced and groaned weakly with every step. It hurt like hell; the small rocks his feet landed on didn't help matters. Bloody footprints were left behind him as he was marched to the platform of the Ark. His back was covered in blood as well, and he could feel the red liquid dripping down to his legs.

His vision became narrower and dimmer as he neared unconsciousness. The last thing he saw was the city's light bulb being lifted in to the sky, disappearing into the Ark, before his eyes closed and he collapsed.

* * *

**A/N: **I went with the Japanese lyrics for the song because it's such a more gorgeous version of it.


End file.
